cursing and other indoor sports

ah, cursing. let’s say that i have a toddler who yells “damn it!” and “crap!”, so no one will be nominating me for mother of the year any time soon.

my MIL likes to yell “sugarbeats” and “firetruck” to replace certain naughty words. i don’t find much satisfaction in yelling goofy things like that — when i curse, i am cursing to release something pent-up, and “sugarbeats” doesn’t do sh.., er, anything for me.

at the risk of sounding like my parents are the foulest-mouthed people on the planet (i swear — politely, of course — they are not), i was raised in a home where the occasional curse word flew. (not the F word, of course, but the “sh” one.) still, because my mom would get cross at me if i uttered something out of line, i never cursed much actually until i went to work for a dot-com-type-place, where everyone else cursed… and my mouth became, well, not pure as the driven snow.

may i humbly recommend cursing in a foreign language? if your kids are going to take the time to figure out what the hell you are saying, i figure its highly educational, at least. me, i curse in yiddish because that’s what my grampa did 😉 i’m a little limited to the phrases he yelled out the window while driving, but i find them somehow wildly appropriate and interestingly descriptive. i understand that there are curses in arabic and other languages that do the same thing. so, find another language and curse away.

the caveat, of course, is to not curse around people who speak that language. one of the easy things about cursing in yiddish is that there are (sadly) not many people i run into who know what the hell i’m saying — although my mom does. (and boy, does she give me a look.)

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