I have decided to blog for 3 days in a row! Yea! Now that the media has been alerted maybe we can get on with it.
Today I discovered that I am politically incorrect. I know, you're shocked. As a mother of 4 grown children and a Grandmother of 11 you would think I would be a model of old womanish correctness. Really, somewhere along the line while raising 4 kids or helping nurture 11 grand kids you would think I learned some restraint and propriety.
You would be wrong.
Improprieties sort of fall out of my mouth. It's not that I am striving to be incorrect I was just raised by a family where I thought my middle name was a swear word until I was 10. My family never had the neighbors over and the neighborhood kids all ran far and fast from my parents. Even in the 50's my parents were offensive. I thought "little bastards" was a sweet endearment my Dad had for all children in general, and his own especially. I thought swearing was an art and damn my family was good.
"The water faucet won't shut off." was just not a complete sentence to my family. It was " f-)(_&^ water faucet @%$! broken again." The dog was not going out for a call of nature, he was "taking a $#@!(& ^^##@". Even when my dad was being really serious and trying to make a point, he would swear and make remarks that would peel the paint off the walls. He threatened me with cursing, he ordered me around with cursing, he talked about work with cursing.
I'm going to apologize up front for this little bit of truth buy I don't think without crude language, it's not natural for me. It's sort of like an accent. It was how I learned syntax. This is what I was exposed to in my formative years. It's what I am the most comfortable with, it's my &%#*ing roots.
So the fact that I told one of my coworkers today he would look better in a stripper cop outfit with those RayBan's, that is a handicap of my upbringing. Not inappropriate office language and I am not stalking the paperboy.
Today I discovered that I am politically incorrect. I know, you're shocked. As a mother of 4 grown children and a Grandmother of 11 you would think I would be a model of old womanish correctness. Really, somewhere along the line while raising 4 kids or helping nurture 11 grand kids you would think I learned some restraint and propriety.
You would be wrong.
Improprieties sort of fall out of my mouth. It's not that I am striving to be incorrect I was just raised by a family where I thought my middle name was a swear word until I was 10. My family never had the neighbors over and the neighborhood kids all ran far and fast from my parents. Even in the 50's my parents were offensive. I thought "little bastards" was a sweet endearment my Dad had for all children in general, and his own especially. I thought swearing was an art and damn my family was good.
"The water faucet won't shut off." was just not a complete sentence to my family. It was " f-)(_&^ water faucet @%$! broken again." The dog was not going out for a call of nature, he was "taking a $#@!(& ^^##@". Even when my dad was being really serious and trying to make a point, he would swear and make remarks that would peel the paint off the walls. He threatened me with cursing, he ordered me around with cursing, he talked about work with cursing.
I'm going to apologize up front for this little bit of truth buy I don't think without crude language, it's not natural for me. It's sort of like an accent. It was how I learned syntax. This is what I was exposed to in my formative years. It's what I am the most comfortable with, it's my &%#*ing roots.
So the fact that I told one of my coworkers today he would look better in a stripper cop outfit with those RayBan's, that is a handicap of my upbringing. Not inappropriate office language and I am not stalking the paperboy.
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