A Mouth like a Sailor

For several years now I have worked on my potty mouth. When Richard and I were still dating I remember sitting in his car and ranting about something when he looked over and said " You sure have a mouth like a sailor sometimes." I have never been proud of my choice of words when I get upset nor has it ever been flattering on me. And to those of my swear-lovin friends out there you might be saying "What, you? No you don't swear at all!" But to those of you who have lips like angels you have probably heard those not so kind words stings your pretty ears.

And most of the time I categorize my words and medium level cussing.  Not a big deal, just the occasional "Dammit, pissed, what the hell"... like I said medium level stuff. Keep in mind in all the years I have been around Richard I can count the number of medium level words he's said on my hands and toes. I love and live with a very patient man. But on occasion if I'm feeling particularly intolerable I like to just make physical threats of what could do with my hulk like strength. For example:

 Me: " Okay, I've had enough of stepping on all these Lincoln Logs! Pick these up in 3, NO 2 minutes or I'm..."

Son: (In exasperation) " Or you'll throw them in a bag to give away right?"

Me: Shocked that he somehow knows what I was going to say "Oh..okay, yes! So, since you already know this PLEASE clean up then!"

(all of 15 seconds later)

Me: "Richard! Why does it only bother me that our hallway in not usable? Do you know see these Lincoln Logs all over? Or did you lose your eyes sight somewhere from the bathroom to where you are currently standing?"

I really don't know why I have such a problem toning down my Popeye-esc attitude. You might say it's because I was raised by somewhat of a tough guy who didn't mind cussing in front of his daughters or just because I am incredibly articulate and comfortable expressing my feelings. But what I do know is that hearing Our Son ask me last night at the dining room table, "If Dad doesn't hurry up, you're going to be pissed at him huh?" was mortifying.

I was given the opportunity to explain how me using bad words is not only lazy but also makes a person seem mean and dumb. When I explained pissed means you pee'd on something he could not stop laughing at why I would pee on his dad for taking a long time at the grocery store. I couldn't make sense of it either, I needed a sweet innocent six year old perspective to put me right in my place. I am humbled everyday by how many times God shows me how hard it is to be an awesome example of a parent is and how many times I get to try again. I'm going to go now so I can write Richard an apology note.

I was just told to be clear that he (Richard) is not Olive Oil just because I am Popeye in this post. So, just to be clear I am not married to a wimpy guy who needs my help, I simply have a cussing problem and he does not hence the reference to a well known sailor.