Fuck and Friends

Fuck was my first curse word and it and its variations are still my favorites.

I very clearly remember playing handball against one of the classroom buildings after school (this is in 2nd grade) and cussing shit out with Joe, my best friend. I wasn't his best friend. In fact, I've never once had a reciprocal best-friendship. And that concludes the F=Friends portion of our post.

Where were we? Ah, yes. Fuck. Fuck and handball.

We're playing against the ugly free art mural on this wall cussing shit out. Fuck that guy, fuck that bitch, fuck that motherfucker in his motherfucking ass.

Well, then my mom bounds jolly around a corner in her fat dress and knee high stockings that won't roll up past her drumette calves. I wanna point out how fucking gross that shit is to Joe, but she might hear me. And beat me.

That's all I remember about that.

Later I remember giving up swearing for many years. It made me pretty angry. Fuck's such a great word for letting off steam. Aptly named, huh?

My kids know the word fuck. They learned it from YouTube. Hearing my boy say it in a whispered, angelic tone--not with shame, but with slight embarrassment--was a beautiful moment for me. CPS didn't understand that, but it's better they learn these things on the information superhighway (remember when we called it that? Let's bring it back) than from me when they're ready.