F-Bombs Away!

Things are pretty mellow around here today. Thanks to the beautiful weather and the presence of some Olympics-worthy volleyball players (AKA the Mitchell family) Wes and I are feeling the effects of too much exercise on overweight bodies. We both played very well, at least, so we have that consolation while we limp around the house.

We had a blast, though. We all gathered to celebrate Wesley’s 28th year and our niece’s fourth year with burgers and ice cream cake (ooh, a burger sounds SO GOOD right now) and a few hearty rounds of volleyball. This may or may not be shocking to you, but it turns out that it’s really hard to move quickly when your stomach is full of half a pound of ground beef. Shocking, yes?

The whole night was a blast with one notable exception: I twisted my ankle and, as I was going down, I may have said a naughty word in front of my nieces. Yes, am terrible person for spouting profanity in front of beautiful little girls.

The thing I can’t stop thinking about, though, is how it just kind of came out. It was effortless. It was an s-bomb and it went off without a hitch. I normally don’t swear all that much (though anyone who knew me back in high school would swear that was a vicious lie) and I definitely try not to swear in front of children, but I find that sometimes those satisfying little profanities just float out my mouth before I can think to lasso them back in.

Do you have this problem? Surely I’m not the only one in the world who’s shouted an involuntary bad word while narrowly avoiding a traffic accident or sighed a curse word after injuring oneself in the kitchen.

After all, I’m a firm believer in the nigh unbeatable satisfaction of a well-placed f-bomb. I avoid that most versatile of swear words as much as possible, but I can definitely still appreciate its visceral appeal and cathartic nature. Just because I can appreciate a pair of Manolo Blahniks doesn’t mean I’m about to run out and spend my paycheck on a pair, you know?

If you’re like Wes and can make neither heads nor tails of my analogies, that last sentence just meant that I can appreciate the f-word without adding it to my middle-class suburban patois.

I suppose rather than asking whether you, too, find it as difficult to restrain yourself from swearing, I should be asking whether I can ever redeem myself for swearing in front of my nieces. I bet my comeuppance will come when my kids someday drop an f-bomb in front of their grandmother and, when asked where they learned it, they proudly proclaim that they learned it from their mother, whom it would seem never quite got the upper hand over her filthy mouth.

6 thoughts on “F-Bombs Away!

  1. The ability to curse is what separates us from the animals. Remember that. You wouldn’t limit your use of your opposable thumbs just because you felt children shouldn’t realize they have the ability to pinch someone, should you?

    Remember, once you stop using your God-given ability to curse ferociously, the terrorists and their religion-based law have won. Think about it.

    America… &#c% yeah!

  2. -Dane, I shall take this as an open invitation to swear like a sailor when you have little ones. For my niece’s sakes, however, I’m pretty sure I’m just going to have to do a better job of buttoning up during family gatherings or my sister-in-law is going to maul me with her Franco Sarto’s. On a different note, I never saw Team America. How was it?

  3. Hilarious. Poignant. Touching. True. Wistful. Witty. Sharp. Edgy. Macabre. Superlative.

    I was starting to get worried! No reply comments all weekend, and that mysterious “comment deleted” posting.

    And for the record, my children’s thumbs will be tightly bound to their hands until they are at least 18. Possibly 19. No telling what kind of trouble they could get in with the full range of manual dexterity.

    Could you send me the pics from my WA time?

  4. -Dane, Your review itself was all of those things and more, especially superlative! I have no idea whose comment was deleted, ’twasn’t mine. I wasn’t feeling super-well all weekend so I turned my computer off and spent a lot of time on the couch. It was awesome. It’s funny, now that I work online ALL THE TIME my favorite was to relax is away from the computer. Go figure. Anyway, sorry to cause alarm. Be careful with the thumb-binding, though. I have the feeling this could result in a) some funky-looking thumbs or b) unimaginable trouble. New ways of creating mischief your opposable thumbs-having mind could never comprehend. I’ll email you the pictures as soon as I download them from my camera. I’ll send you some of the older ones too, for good measure.

  5. Well, I hope you feel better now!

    As for your future children, I will be “Daddy’s old friend that you shouldn’t act like.”

  6. -Dane, Thanks for your concern! I feel better but of course now Wes feels like crap. I think as far as role models go our kids could do a lot worse than you. I mean seriously, what are we going to say to them? “Now kids, don’t act like Old Man Dane (which is, of course, what they will call you) and graduate with a law degree from a ton 14 school. Don’t you dare do that!” HA!

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