Thursday, December 5, 2019

SHHHHH! Don't Tell My Mom What You Heard Me Say!

What a great way to jump back into my blog, right?  After about 15 months of silence, I feel the urge to write about something my mom should NOT be reading.  Well, let's see if the sh!t will hit the proverbial fan with this post.

Let's talk about swearing.  Yep, I'm going there.  AND I'm going to come down somewhat in favor of it for the pure fact that it is cathartic. ( or good for you because it keeps you from internal combustion!)

Now I grew up a sweet little girl.  My mom, swear to goodness, would ask my brother and me if, during that lovely time of potty training, we made rivers or boats in the potty.  We NEVER said pee or poop back then!  I believe I was in my 40's (when I became a mom for the first and second time) before I would even say "pee" out loud.  I hope she's at least proud of me for that. I still inwardly cringe when I say pee, SMH!

Let's bring my Grandpa Bill into the picture.  He was a farmer, and I firmly believed he and God talked quite regularly with each other, and he even spoke to Jesus, although a few times I thought Jesus was in trouble because Grandpa called him by his full name.  YIKES!  After spending the weekend with them during harvest, my rather annoying little brother was bawling his head off at home, so I "allegedly" marched my chubby little two-year-old legs to the bottom of the stairsteps, and yelled, "Gosh darn you, Terry, Shut Up!" (only in Grandpa's words, which I had apparently heard a lot of that weekend.)  I was quite verbal from an early age that should not surprise anyone who knows me.  Boy, was I in trouble because first, I mentioned God in a not-so-conversational/appropriate manner in my rant, and then I said shut up, another big No-No!

Ok, so I grew up, and I learned that just because Grandpa said some words didn't mean I could say them, and I adapted.  I was a teacher's kid, so I tried to be good as I could be.  Then I became a teacher, and I'm just going to say it.  In 18 years of teaching English to teenagers, I swallowed a crap ton of bad words!  I was also and still am a devout fan of the Chicago Cubs and Purdue Boilermakers, and both those teams have inspired "bad words," mostly out of frustration, but there have also been some joyous moments mixed in the pot.

My mom would be proud of me because I really do try not to swear in public.  I take my camera to soccer games and seriously take like 800 pictures at each match, edit them, and post them privately for the team to see.  They think I'm so sweet, and I honestly do this so they can see how great they play no matter what the score is, but it's also an attempt to keep my mouth shut.  I can crack up a few of my fellow parents by uttering Mom-approved oaths like "Fiddle Sticks!"  "Oh, for Pete's sake!" and my edgy one, "Fudruckers!"  (It's an eatery in Chicago, probably a chain.  Google it!) In my mind, though,  the dark words are flying through the air. I also love one that another Chris (guy) friend taught me:  "Son of a Motherless Goat!"  It makes people laugh, and then they have to think about it for a while.  Hee Hee!

Through all these 57 years and some days I have spent on this earth, however, I have tried my dangdest to stay away from the F-Bomb.  Hearing it has always been just a tipping point for me.  Can't you come up with a more creative word than one that is so vulgar?  But then about two or so years ago, good ol' Mr. Shakespeare's line from Romeo and Juliet kept playing in my head:

"That which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet..."

I don't know what pushed me over the edge, having two teenage daughters, stressful life on the farm, watching Purdue football/basketball, seeing my daughter and her friends getting plowed on the soccer field or basketball courts, or maybe I just hit my 50's and decided I could say what I want, but that darned word or its other forms has started to creep into my mind. I like to borrow the word, "bugger" from the British side of the English language.  It sounds so much nicer for some reason.

I saw a post on Facebook that hit home.  "I'm not having a mid-life crisis.  I'm just in a F*** It! Mood!."  BINGO!  My neighbor and I mouth it to each other over beverages and cathartic conversations about our daily trials and tribulations.  We had a couple over to play euchre, and we have played together for about 25 years.  Chris and I decided to let loose the F-word, and I swear we laughed so hard I thought I was going to make a river in my pants!  The girls weren't there, so no bad examples to see/hear.  I'm not sure if it goes all the way back to the forbidden fruit or word in this case, but saying it with a friend melted off so many heavy bricks of frustration and irritation. that day.

So in honor of my mom and because I am still a good girl at heart, please do not take this post as a pass to start openly swearing.  My point is that in this crazy world full of stress, we all need to find a way to release our anger.  Don't go tweeting it or square off with a person who makes you angry, but get the dark out of your system.  I am so lucky to be able to go outside my house and scream any word I want.  The cows just don't care, and if they tell my mom, I'll eat them!

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