Let it Fly!

When was a little boy of about 10 my father overheard me say a word that can best be described as a “choice word”. I had two brothers and was working on my fourth year of public education, so even though my vocabulary was in its infancy, I already knew how to use a pretty good mix of the good and the forbidden. Most of this I’d learned on the mean streets of West End Elementary School because back then if someone on television said “frigging” their sponsors would cancel.

I didn’t know my father was within earshot when I let the word fly, but when he placed his hand on my shoulder and calmly said “I heard what you just said”, I was worried about a lot more than lost advertising revenue. This was going to be big! Of course it would be me that gets caught. Not the baby or the first born; the middle son, the trouble maker. Hide the matches and he still finds a way to get in trouble!

But at school I was none of these, I was just Andy. I knew Mrs. Foster was going to be very disappointed when she found out about my tainted mouth and I could imagine the shock from the rest of the class when she was forced to announce in homeroom that I was banned from school for swearing. “He seemed like such a nice boy. What is the world coming to?”

Well I really couldn’t think of anything to say (remember I was ten), I was caught. As I stood there and looked at the “I’m not mad I’m just disappointed” eyes of my father I could only imagine what would come next. After the mandatory “I hope you understand this is serious parental pause”, he said it again. “I heard what you just said” He began. “I just want you to know that it really doesn’t matter what you say when you are at home, but if you let something like this fly at school or in front of some other adults…well…you’re on your own then. I can’t help you. If you get used to talking like this you’re going to make a mistake…trust me”

Was I just given permission to cuss? I think I was, but I was also given the responsibility to decide when to cuss! Growing up was getting scary and I have to admit that armed with this knowledge and responsibility I cleaned up my act, or at least my mouth, for many years. I was pretty sure at this age that my parents could solve most any problem for me, but to hear my father admit that this one just might me out of his control was enough to reel me back in.

Fast forward thirty years later and I’m having the same conversation with my ten year old. My wife thinks this is pretty stupid, this license to swear, and she makes her opinion very clear. Hell, she even strung a few together to make her point! But it worked on my daughter just liked it worked on me. She may let one fly now and again, but I’ve never heard her even come close to swearing at the wrong time. Maybe my wife’s parents should have had this conversation with her?

Last weekend we were eating dinner with a family that can best be described as one of those that my father warned me about. Great people whose company we have enjoyed for many years, but not the place you want to display your street vocabulary; a place where the F-bomb would change things…permanently. We were discussing the training of our new dog and having a few laughs when out of blue, and out of my wife’s mouth, flew one of George Carlin’s forbidden seven! Pins dropped, I heard them. I had to fight the urge to put my hand on her shoulder, look her in the eye and say “I heard what you just said”. Ha!