Swearing

My mother was a wonderful woman who had a heart of gold and at times…

the mouth of a dock worker.

I’m not saying that our family were saints.

My Dad chose his words very carefully and he would, from time to time, accentuate them with the proper profanities.

My sister could verbalize in colorful language from time to time.

Then there were my Mom and me.

Oh shit.

As I said, Mom could talk like a dock worker, but me…

I taught the dockworkers and guess where I got it from.

I remember the first time I ever swore in front of my mother. I wasn’t any more than maybe 7 years old.

The day before the ‘incident’, I had been at a birthday party for a girl name Sanga Jo. Yea that was really her name.

One of the girls at the party was a girl I went to school with, and had a huge crush on.

Her name was Valerie.

Anyway, the day after the party Mom was asking me about the party. When I told her that Valerie was there, she jokingly asked me,

“Did you kiss her?”

I said one word….

“Jesus!”

The next thing I knew I was on the floor, on my ass. My face was burning and Mom was yelling at me,

“Don’t you ever swear again.”

And I didn’t. Well at least I didn’t in front of my parents.

Not until I was about 16.

I was working with my Dad in the backyard doing some landscaping. I hit myself with a shovel or pick or something and I remember saying; well more like yelling,

“SHIT!”

I cringed, waiting for the inevitable yelling out or worst, that I would get from Dad. 

There was noting.

So I took advantage of the situation.

I swore again, and again and again.

Finally Dad said, 

“Billy I heard you the first ten times. So you know how to swear.”

Now I really had something to brag about.

I could swear in front of my Dad and didn’t get my ass kicked.

It was the start of a lifelong love of the profanities of the world.

Now, as much as I loved to swear, Mom…..

Well, as the saying goes, she took the cake.

But the thing with Mom was she actually didn’t think that she swore that much.

We just got so used to it that it was as normal as having a piss in the morning after getting out of bed.

We simply accepted it as part of life.

There was one time when Mom’s love of swearing and her denial that she actually did so, came together perfectly.

We were all playing darts in my parent’s rec-room. We would play through most of the fall and winter. Part of the fun of the game was the ‘Swear Box’.

Anytime either of us swore, we would have to put a dime in the box.

Doesn’t sound like much but you have never played darts with me and Mom.

We used the money to buy a fancy meal after New Year’s at one of the better restaurants in our town.

Thanks mostly to Mom and me, we had one heck of a meal, along with several bottles of real good wine.

One night in particular really stands out in my mind and I have told this story hundreds of time.

It was a classic Mom moment.

I remember I was shooting to win the game. I was on a double 4.

Now as a rule, I never missed a double 4 but on this particular night, I was off my game. Three shots and I missed.

“Fuck!”

Ten cents in the Swear Box.

We went through the cycle again and I got another shot at the double 4, to win the game.

Unbelievably, I missed again.

“Fuckin’ stupid shit  fucking mother bastard…….”

Or something to that effect.

I think that outburst cost me about $2.00.

I went back to the bar and sat on a barstool next to Mom.

“Billy! Fuck my son, is it necessary for you to fucking swear all the time.”

I looked at Dad, who was standing behind the bar, having a beer.

He laughed. “Yes Billy do you have to swear so much?”

Mom sipped her wine and looked at Dad. “Yes Bill. Where the fuck does he get such fucking language?”

“Fuck Joyce, I don’t know.”

Mom nodded. “Fucking right.”

She stood up and took her darts.

“It’s shocking the fucking language that comes out of you.”

Mom went up to shoot a double to finish the game.

She missed.

“Fuck! Fucking prick. Fuck!”

Dad looked at me, laughing.

“Yes Billy where did you learn your swearing?”

I had to laugh, watching Mom pay her money.

“I have no fucking idea.”