My son is in a state of shock. “You swore,” he says, pointing at me. He has never heard we swearing before. I do say things like, “For crying out loud!” quite a lot. But I rarely utter a turn of phrase which would cause others to cover their ears.
I’m not much of a fan of swearing. I consider it uncouth. Bad manners. There’s my upbringing on full display again. I get annoyed when colleagues drop the F-Bomb casually into meetings. I know it makes them feel terribly cool, but I just consider them unprofessional.
“But you swore,” he cries out loud, as I’m asking him to try to go easy on the swearing. Eventually, I must concede that he’s telling the truth. Though, in my defence, I was only quoting him at the time. But since it occurred in the middle of a heated exchange, it may have been taken as an actual opinion.
Either way, it’s had its effect. He is suitably shocked than his dad swore in such a filthy manner that he has agreed to mend his ways, lest he see his dad in that light again. It turns out, I am okay with swearing, after all. It’s just that I think it should be saved up for special occasions so these words retain their full force. Therein lies their power.
Last modified: 25 September 2023
