When do you have to Quit Swearing?

My kid is exactly 2 months old, so at what point do I have to quit swearing around the house? And I’m not talking about an “Oh shit!”, a “Goddamnit!”, and definitely not worried about “What the hell is going on?”. I’m talking about jumping out of your chair in the living room and screaming at the Red Sox game, “Fuck you Derek Jeter, you fucking cocksucker mutherfucker!”. Or spitting out your beer as you very clearly enunciate “LeBron James you cock-chugging asshole!”. When do you have to begin cleaning that up a touch? Because right now I’m going about my business as though the child cannot understand anything I’m saying. And given what I know about the developmental stages of children, which is absolutely nothing, I am certain she isn’t absorbing any of this. But at what point does “Art Modell can eat a bag of dicks in hell” register in their mind as being not typical of what other parents they know are shouting at a Monday night football game? That is my question. It really hit me the other day as I was on my own with the baby, attempting to parallel park in front of our favorite wine store (Father-Daughter time is going to be sacred on my watch). None of the jizz-mops behind me would allow me to complete the parallel as they all apparently had a 4-alarm fire to get to. As I rained down upon them vulgarities that would make General Patton blush, I saw my daughter out of the corner of my eye. She was obviously laughing hysterically and attempting to figure out which set of muscle contractions produce a middle-finger. But I realized, at some point this may have to end. Or at least be dialed down a notch. Profanity has always been a medium I enjoyed working in. Landing jobs in the trading industry has served to pour gasoline on the fire. It is one of the few industries left in America where one can, at any given moment, stand at their desk and yell “FUCK!” and spike their phone off the computer monitor. And I like that. But the first time I get called into a parent-teacher conference to be told my 6 year old daughter told a classmate to eat a bowl of shit, I might think otherwise. I guess all good things must come to an end.

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to When do you have to Quit Swearing?

  1. AMS says:

    lol … I enjoyed this greatly. In my experience, they register things MUCH earlier than you would expect – my little one learned to yell at the dogs while wagging his finger at them at the ripe old age of 4-5 months, and the day I bopped the dog on the nose with a toy he'd chewed up I suddenly opened Pandora's Box of giddy violence against dogs in my house.

  2. zsg says:

    Oh no, I was hoping more for like “1 year old”

  3. AMS says:

    well, my guy is a bit advanced for his age … but then again, your daughter has that Stephen blood in her which means she will be too! :-)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

3 × = eighteen

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>