My grandson’s daycare worker told his parents he said the fWord several times today.
Mind you my grandson is 23 1/2 months old. That’s 2 years and 1 1/2 months old. He’s only been on this earth for just over 2 years, while the day care worker (assuming she is at a minimum 60 years old) has been here at least 58 years longer than this 23 1/2 month old baby, toddler.
So, a little background on me. I served in the Marine Corps for 20 years. In my early years I became an expert at cursing (or cussing if you’d prefer). My early years of cursing lasted longer than it should have.
I know cursing upwards and downwards, inside and out. I know it from the front to the back. I could tell you about someone I didn’t respect with the most graceful of a cursing stream as you could get. Mind you I didn’t curse at any of the people I was talking about, but I let them have it within my small circle of friends, co-workers. At home, I cursed when I was angry. Not name calling, but using the words as part of my anger. It was ugly, horrible, and disgusting to say the least.
Thank God for counseling, Jesus, a very close friend, my desire to get to the root of whatever I was dealing with, a close friend at work — who told me one day, “Susy, the reason people cuss/curse is because they don’t have the vocabulary to tell you how they are feeling,” all were/are a part of my growth into the non cursing world (minus the use of hell and freakin, in response to specific events since 2016 through this year — to my close friends and my mom).
So when my grandson’s parents told me what this person said. I became angry. Why?
Because my grandson’s home doesn’t have cursing in it. They don’t listen to music with cursing. There is no television on in this home during my grandson’s waking hours. They don’t believe in allowing their kids television or video time, at all, until they turn 2. And then only 30 minutes a day. Which is rare. If he has any video time, it’s usually watching himself or the family on their phone or a children’s learning program — maybe once every two weeks, maybe.
I don’t curse anymore beyond my hell and freakin since 2016 (see above). Something I have to work on. I must increase the words in my vocabulary.