That's me. A good five or six times a day. When I've dropped a carton of milk on the floor ("Oh, sh-t!"). Stepped on an errant Lego ("Oh, sh-t!"). Or just noticed that my dog is lapping up chocolate cupcake crumbs left behind by my daughter ("Oh, sh-t — no, really. Sh-t!").
I don't even realize I'm doing it most of the time. And more often than not, my toddler is there. Standing. Sitting. Watching. And most definitely listening. And it's the listening part that worries me because I know that in less than two seconds she'll be parroting it right back at me.
I should really curb the cussing, right?
Well, maybe not. A study done in the U.K. found that cursing at work helped "enhance group solidarity and [served] as a mechanism for stress relief." And you know what? Mama is in some dire need of stress relief, ya dig?
Because the conclusion I've come to is that there are simply some things that I'm allowed to do as an adult that my child isn't. I can enjoy a glass or two of wine. I can vote. I can operate a motor vehicle. Sorry, kiddo — your time will come. But it isn't today. Or even 10 years from now. And dropping a "f-ck" or a "damn" here and there is one of the sacred privileges I hold onto as a card-carrying member of the adult class.
Swearing in and of itself doesn't really hurt anyone (verbal abuse is the exception here). It's mostly categorized as a lack of manners. It isn't harmful in the sense that their life is imminently in danger. Like . . . letting your four-year-old drive around your van (sorry, "swagger wagon"). And sure, an argument can be made about instilling propriety and social graces in our kids. And if that's something that resonates strongly with you, then more power to you, mama.
Just don't judge me too hard when I step on a Lego during one of our play dates.