A Swearing Mood

WARNING: THIS POST MAY CONTAIN LANGUAGE OFFENSIVE TO THE SENSITIVE READER.

Dammit. There's just nothing I can do about it; I am in a swearing mood. I just woke up that way. I can't blame it on hormones. I can't blame it on weather. I blame it on the genes I inherited from my mom. My mom's family is notorious for their cussing. When my mom (Wannie) was a baby, her dad used to rock her to sleep with the dear little ditty, "Son-a-bitchin' Wannie, son-a-bitchin' Wannie". I remember when Grandma Hunt to used to chase us out of her kitchen after we raided her cookie jar with, "Come back here you little shits!" And when Mom asked Aunt Vena, "Don't you want to be married to Ed for eternity?", Vena replied, "Hell no! I've been putting up with son-of-a-bitch for too long already."

So, really. Is it any wonder that I occasionally wake up in a mood to cuss? If your Mom used yell at you and your cousins to "come and shit your goos on" (get your shoes on) so we can leave", maybe it leaves an impression. If your dad said, "Let's get the whole fam damily here so we can go", maybe it sort of sticks. If one of your family's favorite card games was "Dammit to Hell", maybe you'd be prone to swearing. If you're grandma was introduced to a famous star (who will remain nameless) in Vegas and said to him, "You're sure a handsome son-of-a-bitch", maybe you'd be prone to cussin'. Maybe if your mom referred to your oldest sister (who really was an awful teenager) as "your royal hind-ass", you'd be inclined to blurt out a bad word once in a while.

When my niece Ellie was about three and someone asked her what Grandpa says, she'd say, "Shut the damn door". I rest my case. It's in our blood.

So, if I occasionally wake up in a swearing mood, perhaps you'll understand. But let me assure you, that those genes I inherited from my mom's family are the same genes that gave me an explosive imagination and more creativity than I can handle. It gave me a sense of humor and a wild, adventurous spirit. It's given me a thirst to connect to people, to learn about other cultures, to talk to strangers and invite them to supper, to jump into the thick of life with no regret. So . . . to Grandma Hunt, to Grandpa Oz, to Aunt Vena and to Mom: Thanks, dammit! Thanks a lot.