Last night at dinner with my whole family, we discussed the various reactions to my post “I Should Fucking Curse Less.” My dad said it made him feel that he should have cursed less around the house when we were young. This made me think two things: 1) If that’s your takeaway, you missed the point entirely (classic Dad) and 2) That actually does remind me of a funny story that may or may not make you feel better:

I distinctly remember, at around age 10 or 11, being on the sidelines of my soccer game (on this particular state-champ team, I was almost always on the sidelines and not in the game because….well…I sucked.).  It was a big, end-of-season game and we were tied. In the very last minute, the other team scored a goal, so I muttered (loudly) “God damnit!”

The father of another girl on my team was standing next to me and looked at me, horrified. “Excuse me?”

I looked back at him, genuinely thinking he wanted me to repeat myself, as I saw absolutely nothing wrong with what I had said. I looked him straight in the eye and said it louder, “I said ‘GOD DAMNIT.'”

“You better watch your mouth.”

“But…I did.” I replied, genuinely confused (after all, I had wanted to say “FUCK, we are SO FUCKED!”, but I kept it perfectly clean with “God damnit.”)

Again, he stared at me, clearly disgusted and assuming I had been raised by wolves. He walked away shaking his head.

That guy’s daughter went on to become a huge whore.