Oh hell yeah

Howdy, friends.

I have a potty mouth. It’s bad, REALLY bad. I claim that I got it from my dad, who has a horrible potty mouth, too. We both say “fuck” at least once per conversation. Including professional situations.

The first time I swore in front of my dad, I was pouring boiling water from the tea kettle, and I was turned talking to him and poured it right on my foot. I was about 14. “Motherfucker,” I said, then was immediately like, “Oh shit, I just swore in front of my dad.”

His reply? “That hurt?” Oh hell yes, I thought, as I peeled burning soaked sock off my blistering foot.

It’s not something I’m proud of. I’m often horrified when I hear myself. I just … do it.

Swearing has been so much a part of me, I don’t even hear it come out.

Or, I didn’t. Until I had kids of my own. This is the part where I say Jesus Christ, am I goddamn sorry to my sisters Pam, Kim and Tracey, and my sisters-in-law Julie and Dana for swearing around their kids. Because just like I am the world’s bitchiest ex-smoker (do you realize how bad you smell, smokers? UGH.), I am turning into one nasty ex-swearer. OK, not an ex-swearer, just a “watch your mouth around my kid” person.

I mean, I yell at Philip and tell him the word we are using is “toot” for that noise that the baby and the toddler make. My mom always said “shoot a bunny” but I am like, No! No violence or gun talk! Hippy hippy hippy!

Anyway. On Sunday, my husband and I were talking while Jack colored in his high chair, and Philip responded to something with a “Hell yeah.” I gave him the dirty look that all wives know how to give.

He was like, whatever, Jack didn’t hear me (in the dismissive way all husbands know how to do).

Then we heard a little peep.

“Hell yeah! Hell yeah!”

Oh shit.

Man, we need to watch it.

And, so we include the baby in this post (who Jack calls Genebeef), here is a photo of her practicing her tummy time with her daddy, who, yes, is using a truck as a pillow.

Yes, she has on pants with hearts on them. Apparently, ALL baby girl clothes have hearts on them.

In running news, I ran a nice 10 miles on Saturday, and then 3 on Sunday, before the baby was starving and I was too crabby from having the stomach flu last week to keep going. It was a piss-poor (damn it, I mean, awful, stupid swearing) training week, but whatever. Onward. Ended up running a nice 6.5 today in the sun.

Happy running.

This entry was posted in Kids, Running, Wah!. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Oh hell yeah

  1. Carolyn says:

    you had me at motherfucker! i am the same way and believe me, the kids hear you. i love your blog so, so much. thanks for writing it.

  2. Karyn says:

    Fuck yeah!!

  3. Candace says:

    I’m a crabby ex-smoker too….and to think, we thought of them as “smokey treats.” Fuckin’ cigarettes.

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