Little Miss Potty Mouth, that’s me. I consider my propensity to swear as a positive trait. According to a recent study by two psychological scientists, people who swear are more likely to be honest, loyal and upfront with their loved ones.
Duh, of course.
Anyone who says, “fudge!” when they are pissed off is not to be trusted. They probably torture small animals during me-time.
You may wonder about my children. Thing 1 is vehemently opposed to swearing. We even used to have a swearing jar.
Whenever anyone swore they’d have to deposit two Rand into the jar for Thing 1 to use at her discretion. One day a visiting relative gave Thing 1 R150, which I popped in the swearing jar for some reason.
My sister came through in the evening, walked into the kitchen, and noticed the R50 and R100 notes in the swearing jar full of coins. She looked directly at me, please note there are other adults in this household, and said; “Geez, you had a bad day.” Apparently my sister believes me capable of producing R150 worth of expletives in one day.
This potential is probably why we no longer have a swearing jar. Thing 1 loves money too much to be in charge of it. I love swearing too much to co-exist with one. I remember once proclaiming that something was “fudging funny”, except of course I didn’t say fudging. Thing 1 overheard. She came running into the room and demanded; “What did you say?”
“Oh, I said that’s funny funny”
She looked me dead in the eye and declared; “There was something fucky in there.”
I paid her, for the last time, then sat her down; “Baby, mommy loves swearing. It makes me happy and if I have to stop I will turn into a very horrible mommy, so no more swearing jar. No more swearing police.”
I hope Thing 2 grows up to appreciate swearing more than her sister. It’s promising. Although her vocabulary consists of only eight words, none of which are expletives, her personality is promising.
Once, working over a weekend at a colleague’s house, his two-year old dropped her bottle off the balcony and it cracked. She walked up to her dad, cracked bottle in hand, presented her father with the bottle and very sadly between sobs said; “It’s f**ked.”
Another time, when a friend’s triplets were three years old, she announced in a panic; “We’ve run out of nappies!” The oldest one looked into his pants and concluded; “Now you’re f**ked”!!!
My favourite is Linda, who has enlisted her toddler as a weapon in the passive aggressive war between her and her mom-in-law. Her husband’s mother, a puritanical woman of God, doesn’t get along with Linda at all.
If she is not at church, Bible study, or judging people, she spends time with Brandon, Linda’s three-year-old. year So Linda invested an entire weekend into teaching him how to swear, just to make life extremely awkward for his grandmother.
Now that’s f**king brilliant!
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