You probably wouldn't know it from reading my blog... where I try to maintain a certain, ahem, decorum, but I have a bit of a potty mouth. Here I worry too much about the blog police sending me to cyber-jail... or whatever the heck happens. See? Heck. I wrote heck. That wouldn't have happened in real life where every word you say doesn't hang around FOREVER like it does in internetland.
I don't want to give you the impression that I'm gunning for Howard Stern's job or anything. I don't think I use any, um, colorful words just for the fun of it, but I guess I have kicked it up a bit lately because today my TA (trusty assistant) asked me if she was being a bad influence on me. I told her no, I learned most of those words before she was even born. *sigh*
I blame much of it on my kids. I became pretty good about censoring myself when the girls were little. There is nothing like having your 4-year-old yell 'SON of a bitch!' in the grocery store when you tell her they are out of Cocoa Cruchies, to stiffen your resolve to clean up your language. As they got older my lips loosened a bit. I know, I know. I should still be trying to set a good example. So withdraw my mother-of-the-year nomination. There are so many other reasons that I couldn't win anyway.
The thing is, now that I can't hear very much, I guess I assume that other people can't either, and what I intend to be said under my breath, apparently is not... judging from the looks I get. So, I guess I am going to have to take Diane up on her offer to teach me to swear in sign language. Either that or join the Navy.
So, are you totally shocked?