Swearing by my kids

Ruby Sue: Shittin' bricks.

Clark: You shouldn't use that word.

Ruby Sue: Sorry. Shittin' rocks. – Emily Latzen and Chevy Chase

When I was 8 (ok, let’s fess up here…I honestly don’t know how old I was. At this point I am only guessing somewhere between 6 and 12, and even that is a stretch. But 8 sounds good, so let’s go with that.) Where was I?  Oh yes. When I was 8, I said my first bad word. Well, probably not my first bad word, just the first one that I got in trouble for. I didn’t even say it around my parents for heaven’s sake. My older brother heard me say it and ratted me out to our folks. Oh yeah, like he was such an altar boy. He swore so much, I think that they actually made him join the Navy. “Uh, Mr. Kahler, due to your uncontrollable swearing, we are going to have in incarcerate you in a sound-proof room, or you are going to have to join the Armed Services.” Even to this day he swears like a, well…sailor.  (good career move, there buddy). And riding in the car with him is like being with a man that has vehicular tourettes. But I don’t blame him, for my swearing or my getting in trouble. I blame (wait for it,) our mother. Yes, I know, strange to hear, and even stranger to think about, but there it is. I learned all my cuss words from my mother. And I mean ALL of them. Even the ones that make women slap you when you call them one of those words. That woman could make a sailor blush with her language, and probably did. For as long as I can remember, my parents, mom in particular, used foul language. And I always knew the rule, just because you hear it, doesn’t mean you repeat it. But one slipped out. On our swing set. With no one around but my brother. Next thing I know, I am being called into the house and grilled under bright house lights. “Did you say a bad word?” Where did you hear that word? Who taught you that word?” Even then I was smart enough to not accuse my mom, for fear of additional corporal punishment. So I named a random kid that lived up the street, and that was followed up with a proper washing out of the mouth with soap routine. Lava soap, to be exact.  Right then and there, I made myself a promise to not get angry or upset with my own kids if they ever repeated something I said. Can’t promise that I have always stuck to that, because, lets face it, I am a man, and we constantly say and do dumbshit things. But I have been pretty consistent with both of my kids, and try very hard to not punish them for my stupidity. And yes, I cuss like a…well, like my mom. Which means loud, often, and occasionally at inappropriate times.

Given my upbringing, as well as my frequent use of colorful language, I am not surprised when my children occasionally spring an ill-chosen adjective or noun. In fact I am surprised that I don’t hear it more often. And when I do, it is usually when the whole family is in the car. Take for example last week, before Thanksgiving, when we picked up the kids from school to head up to the mountains. We had just gotten on the highway when my son (and it is almost always my son that swears) blurts out “Damnit! I forgot my library books!” Pretty innocuous, I know, but still falls on the swear-word spectrum. Or the time we were driving back from the store, my daughter fast asleep in her car seat, and my son trying to communicate some point about something that I really didn’t care about.

ME-“What?”

CJ-under his breath - “Jesus Christ.”

ME-very calmly - “What did you say?”

CJ-silence, while he stares out his window, and then intently focuses on his shoes.

WIFE-“It’s ok, buddy, you can say it. We just want to know what you said.”

CJ-more silence.

ME-still calm - “It’s ok. I promise you aren’t going to get into trouble. I just want to know what you said.”

JACKIE-still asleep, she lifts her head from the side of the car seat, and without opening her eyes or missing a beat-“He said Jesus Christ.” And then immediately put her head back down on the car seat.

The hard part for me when this happens is to not look at my wife. Because if I do, we usually both burst out in fits of laughter. Yeah, I know, no one is going to nominate me for parent of the year. However we do try to use it as a teachable moment, and explain to both of them (if they are both awake) that they will get in trouble in school if the teachers hear them speak like that, and just because I say it, does not mean they can. Until they are 18. And not living at home.