Swears

#%&!

Dang, Fetch, oh, my heck,

What the holy scrud?

H-E-double hockey sticks

That's frickin', flippin', crud!

(Chorus of  "Dang, Fetch, Oh My Heck" from the Oscar  worthy "Sons of Provo"  (hee, hee))

It seems like everytime I've turned around this week, I've heard something about swearing.  First, my friend Sue wrote a blog/letter to her six daughters reminding them to keep their swears down.  

On Monday, I was chatting with my niece Jodi.  I was talking about how sore I was after my surgery and let the sh**  word fly.  She asked "Do you kiss your grandchildren with that same mouth?" 

 Just last night, my family was all sitting around watching "The Amazing Race".  I told them all my new goal "I've decided to never let my grandchildren hear me swear."  Erika (she always sets me straight) looked at me and said "Well, why don't you start practicing NOW?"  Good point.  Thanks for the slug in the gut!

I was raised in a home where we weren't allowed to swear AT.ALL.  I can honestly say that I never heard either parent swear until I was in my early 20's.   Here's how that went:

Mom:  Ray will you run down to the basement and get me a loaf of bread?

Dad:  I'll walk but I'll be damned if I'm going to run.

I think my mother and I could not stop laughing for an hour and even now I get a little chuckle out of it.

 Swearing.  We just didn't do it.  That's why I loved to go to church and sing the hymns because I was sure to find a perfectly legal "Hell" or "Ass" that I could sing extra loud.  The same was true in the scriptures.  So, It wasn't that big of a deal to have to read them.  And, if the scriptures say those words, it must be okay... right?

When my dad was a small boy, he was helping my grandpa fix a fence out in their field.  My pop missed his target and ended up hitting his leg with the sledge hammer...it was a serious injury.  My dad yelled "Oh Lordy, Lordy."  My grandfather told him "Son, you will not take the Lord's name in vain in my sight.  Go home and wait for me there."  I'm sure the waiting part was worse than the strapping he got when his dad finally made it home. 

I will say, I'm not THAT extreme.  In fact, I think that a well placed hell, damn, or shi**  can add emphasis to a conversation.  And often, there is no other way to say it.  A good swear will do it's job.  But you will NEVER hear me take the Lord's name in vain.  That is not me.  And if you know me, you know that I don't judge anyone who uses strong language I love you just the same (given that I loved you in the first place!  HA!).  

I will end with this.  It is something a friend told me a long time ago about swearing.  She said that when we swear, we just haven't taken the time to choose a better word.  I'll try to choose better words.  I really will.  But, damn it's hard! 

My handsome dad.