Archive for January, 2015

22
Jan
15

Bad Words

1-11-15

Recently we went to my son Tyler’s house to watch his three children Presley 7, Charlotte 5, and Hudson 11 months. Piece of cake.

Presley and Charlotte are quite illustrious in many ways and with huge imaginations. Presley at this time is enthralled with “good guys and bad guys,” Hulk and GI JOE including Lego Mind Craft mania.

So of course the movie GI Joe was the hot topic since apparently they had just seen it.

“It was so cool, Grandma! Bamm, bamm,” and all the machine gun noises!!

Then suddenly he got a very small voice. “They say the “F” word in the movie, just one time tho.”

“Hmm,” I replied.

“But not for real. You couldn’t know it. They blanked it out. “ Apparently he saw the sanitized version somehow.

“That’s really a bad word, the “f” word,” he explained.

Charlotte chimed in: “It really is. My mom watches Gabby and she told us all about it. Her dad uses that word sometimes, so she knows.”

And then she says, ”The “s” word is really bad too.

“Oh, you mean “stupid”? I reply.

“Yes, and the “sh” word too.,” she said.

My husband and I stole sideways glances at each other and before we could change the subject, they added.

“It’s like the “d” and the “h” word. Even though they’re in the Bible we shouldn’t use those words. Even the “a” word. You need to say donkey.”

HMMM. We quickly moved on.

That reminded me of the movie “Good Fellas” it you bleeped out the “f” word it would be a silent movie. We counted hundreds of times it was used. Anyone could have written that screenplay.

It also reminded me of when my daughter was 10 or 12 and she cornered me in the kitchen one day. She innocently asked me if I would please not use any more bad words.

I looked up from the sink where I was and without skipping a beat said, “You mean shit, hell, damn?”

“Yes, Mom!!!!” AAAGH.

“Okay, I’ll be careful. Would you please help me with these dishes now? It’s one hellava mess here.”

She’s grown now and loves to tell that story. Thankfully she was not scarred. My own grandmother who was squeaky clean and as sweet as could be would tell me what a “little shit” my own mother was as a child. Even my father who was a Marine used colorful language and I wished at times he would not. He was never obscene. I survived to tell about it.

First of all, I am not and have never been a “potty mouth.” I reserve the use of the aforementioned words sparingly. Usually only to punctuate the distress of a situation or to make a point or in cases of fear or extreme frustration. So looking back maybe I did overuse those words a tad.

For the most part my language is family and kid friendly. I can count on less 2 hands how many times I used the real “f” word. Mostly under my breath and never in front of innocent ears.

I reserve it for those who are like minded. For example my friend Cindy. We have this on-going term of endearment for each other we use whenever we spot a male hunk jogging while on our weekly walk. We take one look at each other and simultaneously lean over and whisper “slut.”

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