Friday, April 25, 2008

"Coach told me not to swear." - Raj

Raj got hit by a rock yesterday playing soccer, and he cursed. In the world of 5th graders, this isn't usually acceptable unless your mom's not around.

He used the f word and I'll be honest, I'm particularly fond of this one.

I like to blame Sij, because before I lived with her, I never, ever cursed. Pre-Baltimore, I used lots of nice words. Shoot. Darn. Oh, that's too bad. Some innocuous drivel like that.

Then I met Sij, with a heart of gold and a mouth of a sailor. Fuck-a-duck and shitballs were expressions frequently heard at 2637 Calvert Street.

Since then I have not lived with anyone who curses with quite the same...endearing quality as Sij. I'm thinking about throwing in a choice expression during their wedding ceremony this summer, but I'm not sure how this would fly with Dave. Or say, Dave's family.

I guess cursing is probably not appropriate for weddings.

2 comments:

brittian said...

Frieking Hilarious!!!
You're cool.

Thanks for being real.

Gretzky said...

No problem. Anytime you need a reality check, let me know. :)