The other day I received a comment on my Facebook page in response to a post I had written. It was mostly complimentary.
But here was one part of it:
…Why do you use the F word. You do have a lovely family and I would love not to hear your children use it…
Why do I use the F word?
Well, before I answer that, let me assure you that while I may have one of the biggest potty mouths in town, I don’t use that kind of language in front of the kids.
Years of being an elementary school teacher have trained me well to censor myself.
And it’s really irrelevant anyway, because my kids take the bus to school, and they learned the f word there about two weeks into kindergarten.
So, to answer your question.
Why do I use the F word?
Well, I’m not quite sure where to start.
I use the f word because we have seven kids.
Isn’t that reason enough?
I mean, I honestly think one kid is enough reason to use the f word.
I use the f word because it really lets you know how I feel.
Or how the kids feel.
I could have said, Number 5 doesn’t really care for my new haircut.
But Number 5 just fucking hates it really describes her feelings much more accurately.
Why else do I use the f word?
Well, the other day, for the first time in six years, I wore the one pair of matching earrings that I have managed to keep hidden from the kids, and about 11 minutes after I took them off, Number 6 flicked one of them somewhere, and now it’s gone. Forever.
And now I have zero fucking pairs of earrings.
That’s pretty fuckworthy in my book.
I use the f word because I am really tired of having an audience while I’m sitting on the crapper.
I use the f word because someone in this house is always crying.
Crying because I gave them the wrong cup, or because someone took their spot, or because he won’t stop looking at me, or because there is a microscopic wet spot on their sleeve, or because I did not read the story with the right funny voice.
I use the f word because I’m really fucking tired of trying to find shit that is lost.
I use the f word because I’m just really fucking tired.
I use the f word because Number 7, who is three years old and has an impressive mastery of the use of scissors, will opt to cut human hair before anything else.
I use the f word because I stopped yelling at my kids last August, and that is fucking hard. Typing the word fuck, in all of its glorious forms and tenses, repeatedly, makes it much easier.
I use the f word because on those days that I manage to get all the kids dressed ahead of time, one of them inevitably spills something on her shirt, and we have to change the whole outfit, and we are still late, even with all my getting-ready-ahead-of-time nonsense.
I use the f word because it makes me feel better when I wake up at 5 a.m. and realize that we are out of coffee, or when I get in the car, am running late, and remember I have like No. Fucking. Gas.
I use the f word because in addition to not yelling anymore, I am doing my best to stop complaining, and so a good FUCK is all I have left.
It’s not always when I’m pissed off.
Sometimes I use the f word when I’m really fucking happy!
Like when I get a great haircut that makes me feel like a million fucking bucks!
That’s why I use the f word.
I use the f word because I don’t really give a fuck what anyone else thinks.
But mostly, if I’m really going to be honest, I use the f word because I just fucking like it.
And that’s reason enough for me.