We are gathered here today to bid farewell to an old friend, a dear friend, a friend who has served me faithfully for many years. I am talking about The F Word.
I first met The F Word in middle school. Kids were teasing me because I wouldn’t use bad words. They taunted me for the sin of not fitting in and being a “goodie goodie” etc…
I was so afraid to disappoint my parents, that I resisted as long as I could. Eventually, in desperation to be accepted, I said F It, and began a journey not unlike Dorothy in Oz, familiarizing myself with all manner of bad words and adding them to my arsenal.
During the next few years, I spewed fowl language like some twisted poet, always finding new and exciting ways to utilize and expand the art of cursing.
While there are many, and I do mean many, curse words in any decent vulgarist’s tool box, none exceeds that of The F Word in it’s artistry and variety of uses.
The F Word is quite simply, the most perfect word in the English language.
Great things about The F Word:
- The F Word works as a noun, pronoun, verb, adjective and adverb
- It is both utilitarian and beautiful
- If someone uses the word followed by “you” it’s a bad thing. However, if they (or at least the right person) says it with the words “I want to” preceding it, it’s a good thing.
- It has the perfect guttural tone to convey meaning so that even non-English speaking people understand that you mean business, dammit
- It’s often the first word to leave people’s lips in the morning
- And it has likely been many a person’s final utterance before exiting this Earthly existence
- When all other curse words fail, The F Word always works
However, having a two year old boy and The F Word in the same house do not mix well.
As E’s vocabulary increases, he is always in search of new words to twist his tongue around. I suppose that words shouted by daddy count among the coolest to experiment with. Which is why my wife keeps telling me to watch my mouth.
This all came to a head last week.
My wife was at work and I was driving with my son. Some jerk cut me off, causing me to alter my course or risk an accident. I cursed at the jerk, even though he couldn’t hear me.
However, my son could.
And moments later, he repeated my words.
“Fokka … Modda Fokka.”
Not just The F Word…
But the MF word!
Three more letters:
I quickly altered the word, repeating, “daddy said doctor” hoping he would follow along.
“Modda Fokka,” he said.
I showed no reaction, though inside I was both laughing and shrieking.
Eventually, I convinced E to say “doctor.”
Later, I sheepishly confessed the event to my wife and she reacted as I thought she would – horrified.
We went a few days without incident until the other night when something happened in the house which caused me to mutter, almost under my breath, The F Word.
“Fokka,” E said almost immediately, like some magic beanstalk seed which merely required a bit of water to spring to life.
Thankfully, my wife was nowhere within earshot.
“Yeah,” I said, “Doctor. Doc-tor.”
That was the end of that. This time.
So, I’m afraid I have to say goodbye to my old friend, The F Word.
I’ll miss you dearly. It will be hard to find a worthy replacement that elicits as much joy to say. And for that, I will be sad. Fret not, though, as this is not a permanent goodbye. Something tells me, we’ll meet again, say about the time E hits his tween years.
Other evidence of my bad parenting: The post about my son’s first curse word, Sh!t.
If you enjoyed this post, check out my friend, Dave Fowler’s post on the subject. Forgive the lack of comments on his post. He had some great ones, but they were lost when he had an issue with his F’ing host.
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