She's a Cunning Linguist Already

I remember the first time I cussed out loud. It was me, William and Mark and we were at the end of Kesteven Rd. Down by the big dirt pile and the deadfall with the bee's nests and the lizards. The drainage for the street came out down there and there was a pipe about three feet in diameter that, if you yelled into it, would echo. I knew for sure that my parents, all the way at the top of the street, could hear me but I gathered my nerve and meekly croaked out "shit." After, I was scared to go home. When nothing happened and I realized the world wouldn't end I would go down there and yell my fool head off. That first tentative expletive blossomed into a full blown love affair with "dirty words." And my favorite, my absolute hands-down favorite curse word is the "F-word." I love how it can be humorous, violent, sexy or scared. In my humble opinion there is no finer curse word. Now that I have a daughter I have to watch my language but I find myself finding joy in her growing love of the English language. Her new favorite word is "fork." She doesn't know why but mommy and Daddy find it hilarious and that means she will repeat it at the top of her lungs for as long as we laugh. I just hope to God she doesn't ask for a fork the next time we go out to eat.