photo (30)I have what can only be described as a potty mouth.  I cuss.  A lot.

I know there is a train of thought which suggests people who swear are compensating for a poor vocabulary and lack of critical thinking skills, but the people who say that can go fuck themselves.

However, since moving in with C and the Two Ts I have made a concerted effort at language regulation.  While I have been mostly successful I occasionally (and sometimes more than occasionally) slip up.  My only excuse it that I was raised in a wonderful, nurturing and protecting household that was full of love and foul language.  Under the bus, mom and dad!  Also, I got to be about 36 before there was anyone around who my lack of couth might unduly influence, so this is new to me.

The awesome thing about when I use bad language is that I have my own little in-home swear word cop.

Whenever I say a bad word within earshot of T2, he looks at me and says, “Patrrrrrick.”

Just reading it doesn’t do it justice.  He isn’t nagging.  It isn’t the voice of someone being a tattletale.  It’s not even his regular voice.  I’ve sat here for ten minutes trying to pin down how he sounds and the only thing I can come up with is you have to imagine James Earl Jones is eight years old and is disappointed in you.

His voice gets lower, he draws out my name and he almost growls. Half the time he isn’t even in the same room.  It’s just this disembodied voice.   It is hilarious and adorable.  Like 50% of the stuff he does, it completely breaks me up.  It is also super effective because whenever it happens I immediately correct myself and apologize.

Last night T1 and I were in the family room joking around about something.

“T1,” I said, “get your damn books off of the table!”

Up the stairs from the top floor hallway a little voice drifted down, “Patrrrrick.”

He is always listening.

He walked down the stairs, put his hand on my arm and very seriously said, “Now you are cursed.”

“What?” I said.

“You said the d-word,” he said.  He seemed disappointed in and sad for me in equal measure. “That’s a cursed word.  Now you are cursed.”

I didn’t even correct him, because he was more or less right.

So, I’m trying to do better.  The only issue I have is that I am torn between being a better role model and the fact that being scolded by T2 makes my day.

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