My Dirty Mouth

Years ago I made a sailor blush. He stationed Pearl Harbor and we had a little wager that I couldn’t make him turn red in the face from my dirty mouth. I won. I won’t tell you what I said though because it’s pretty bad.
I never lost my bad language which comes from years of hanging out with Marines, and now I’m paying the price for it. Our lovely Peanut now repeats words. Her favorite one is “shit” luckily.
“Oh shit!” – Me
“Oh shit!” – Peanut
“Damn!” – Me
“Damn! Haha!” – Peanut
“Crap” – Me
“Poo-poo?” – Peanut

It seems like when I mistakingly come out with a curse word, another one follows and then I have to think of something else to say. Ah well.. these things take time, aye?
It just occurred to me that Native Americans don’t have any words in their languages that are translated as a curse word. I should learn from them.


2 thoughts on “My Dirty Mouth

  1. Around the time that Evan started speaking, I was playing a video game and I died.

    I dropped the F-bomb.

    So did he.

    I think I stopped cussing until he was old enough to understand “Do what I say, not what I do”. LOL.

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