Sunday, June 21, 2015


                                      My love affair with the F Word

  (DISCLAIMER- if you are offended by this word DO NOT read this post)
    Well, we might as well talk about my love of that word. It is terrible, I know, but I have had a fondness for it for a long time. I did rein it in when I had the kids, but now that they are in their 20’s it has come back. With a vengeance.
   It all started in high school. I was making plans with my friends (yes I had friends back then) and we were going to this wonderful event called Little League Night. It was kind of like a carnival- rides, fireworks, nasty food, etc. There were hundreds of phone calls involved in plotting who was going with who, times of arrivals, etc. Then, it started to rain! WTH(F)? So, another 100 phone calls later every plan was cancelled and I was settled in for the night, pissed off, but settled in. And what happens? It quits raining! Really? In Pennsylvania sometimes it rains for days. Oh no- not this time. So, my brother and I are hanging out in the living room. My dad pops his head in and says to me “I thought you were going to Little League Night? So I replied- “Well, I was but it started to rain. And now look at it – there is not a fucking cloud in the sky”. He just looks at me, said ok and leaves. Brooke looks at me and says (yells actually) “DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST SAID?” No- what? Then he proceeds to tell me that I said fuck in front of dad. REALLY? OMG- life is over as I know it. It was a good life, short at 16 but it was good one. Nice to know all of you- my dad is going to freaking (fucking) kill me now.
  I decide I better head to my bedroom- when he kills me it will be easier to hide the blood upstairs on my floor than in the middle of the living room floor. A few hours go by and there is a knock at my door. Holy shit- this is it. I say “Come in”.  My dad opens the door….. and asked me if I was ok. WHAT?? “Yeah, I am fine. Just hanging out.” He replies- “Ok- I was just worried because you have been up here a while”. And he closes the door. I just got my second life! No yelling, no punishment, nada. Is he cool, or what? I eventually asked my brother how my dad has never slipped a cuss word in front of us and he told me because he has had many more years of practice. Whew- I made it out alive! To this day this is one of Brookes’ favorite stories. And he still cannot believe I said that in front of my dad.
  A few years later I was at the shore, and found an awesome shirt. It had the F word all over it.  I bought it, but never wore it. EVER. I think I just thought it was so cool I could even buy it. If I ever make a T-shirt quilt for me one day it is going in it- I will just have to hide it when the grandkids come over. (If I ever have any)
  Fast forward 30 years (please don’t do the math) to a few weeks ago. One Saturday, Bob and I went and grabbed a quick lunch. We were sitting near a little girl that was quite chatty. She did not stop talking- and I thought I was bad- and it was all in Spanish. The chattiness of course did not bother us at all- she was very cute and it was a very busy fast food place. It was very noisy. I proceed to dump my lidded (thank God) cup on the table, and what do I blurt out? FUCK. Yes, the F- word. Now, I did not think I said it very loudly, but that shut the little girl right up. Even though she was speaking only Spanish it amused me that she knew that bad word. Of course I must admit the only Spanish words I know are naughty- but I am OLD. (Thank you Sean, for teaching those words to me- I should have known Bruja was a bad word as he called me that often. I thought it meant PRETTY.)  I proceeded to say oh darn, etc. but the little girl kept staring at me. (Or so I am told. I could not look at her or her mother). They finally left, thank goodness, and we did as well with my head hung low.
  Now, after that incident, I am going to try to behave when out in public. I thought I was pretty good with my language when out of the house and in a public area.  (Bars and quilt retreats do not count). But evidently that is not the case.
  It may be a lost cause, however as I just took one of those nutty quizzes on Facebook. This one was “Which cuss word are you”? And guess what I got- yep. The F word.
  So, I am going to take my potty mouth, give it a quick rinse with a bottle of wine, and we shall see how I do.
Thanks for reading, my friends!

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