This week: I will not swear. I am not shitting you.
It’s a good thing I’m perfect in every other way because swearing is really my only shortcoming. Well, I guess swearing and that nasty shopping habit. Okay, and maybe my driving skills aren’t exactly stellar either. Fine, you beat it out of me, I’m pretty hopeless as a charades partner.
Fuck it. Swearing may be my only talent.
Do you have a Quarter Jar in your home? If I need to explain this concept, you don’t have one, which means you and your well-behaved spouse don’t have a problem with cursing. This probably also means that we couldn’t be friends because I believe in having friends that curse. This puts us both on an even playing field, and no one party can be too “judgey.”
We have a Quarter Jar. It used to be the Dollar Jar, but Harv and I were bleeding so much money into the jar that we hardly had enough left in our wallets for groceries. Just kidding. We had enough for groceries, but no fun date nights. Just kidding. We had enough for date nights, but what fun is a date night if you can’t swear? Cussin’ and wine-in-a-box. Ain’t git better than that.
Here’s where our Quarter Jar went awry. First, our Jar wasn’t an actual jar with actual quarters. Instead, Cal drew a picture of a jar on a sheet of paper and stuck it on the refrigerator. Every time we said a bad word, we were simply supposed to draw a quarter in the jar. Except, Harv and I would draw the quarters exceptionally big, and Cal would try to draw them representative of their real size.
Why were Harv and I drawing them so big (also known as the Quarter Jar Gone Awry Part 2)? We let Cal pick our “punishment” for filling up the jar. Her pick- take a family trip to the bookstore and each of us would get to choose a book. Yes, that’s right folks….I could “shit” and “fuck” my way to a brand new book. Every time we slipped, we drew a big, fat quarter in the jar. One of mine even took up half the page.
(On a related note, I am thinking about writing a book on Parenting with Morals and Values.)
Before you get all judgey, you should know that ALL THREE of us contributed to the Quarter Jar. I caught Cal drawing a quarter in the jar, and I asked her what it was for. She admitted she had said the “B” word. Puzzled, I blurted out, “You said ‘Bitch’?”
“No, Mommy….’Butt’.”
(On a related note, I am still thinking about writing that book on Parenting with Morals and Values.)
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Ever let a word slip when you didn’t mean to? How do you handle swearing?
photo via blueq.com
