So…I said the f word in front of my daughter today.
Not on purpose, of course. I mean, I meant to say it, but not in front of her.
I’m a bad person.
I really shouldn’t tell anyone this story, but I feel like sharing it is kinda like washing my mouth out with soap, but on a larger, more appropriate scale to match the shame I feel at this moment. Here we go.
It was a perfectly normal afternoon, until I got hungry and decided to do something different for a snack. I haven’t juiced in a while. Yes, veggie juice! Healthy, delicious, perfect.
I walked into the kitchen, put my stuff in the juicer, and turned it on. Without the pitcher that catches all the juice.
“F***. My. Life,” I said, plain as day, as tomato, kale, and lemon juice slid down the counter and onto the floor.
Kat, who I had not heard come in the room with the juicer going, had walked into the room.
“Mom. You said the f word.”
Since I was already in trouble, I thought one more sin couldn’t hurt. I was about to lie to her, too. I wiped juice off my foot and said, “Kat, I’m so sorry. It’s the only time in my life I’ve said that. I didn’t mean to. It just slipped out. Would you help me clean this up?”
Now, there were a couple of lies in that sentence. Did you catch them?
1. I have said that word before. Just not in front of her or her brother. Well, not that they could hear me.
2. I was sorry, but only sorry about the juicer mess and the fact that she heard me. She was so stunned that she agreed to help clean. I actually cussed my daughter into helping me clean the kitchen. What kind of mother am I?
I’ll tell you what I usually do when I want/need to cuss, vent, or cry, which is almost every day. I yell as loud as I can into my pillow. That pillow has heard me say things I wouldn’t tell anyone on the face of the earth. I’m not gonna lie – sometimes I say things so bad I immediately strip the pillow case off and throw it in the washing machine to sanitize it before I go to bed. I feel like that’s okay – I mean, sometimes you have to say things out loud and then you’re over it. Right?
The point of that little segway is that I did NOT have a pillow muting my potty mouth. The word hung in the air like a weird, kale smelling fog.
Kat and I are still not making eye contact at this point, but I can see her wheels spinning. She’s wondering if she should tell her dad or if that would be tattling on her mother. She’s wondering if I lost my mind. She’s wondering when she can slip that into a conversation and say, “But mom…you said it!”
I am so not proud of myself right now. I’m a cusser, a liar, and can’t even use a juicer.
I promise this morning I woke up a perfectly moral human being and now I’m on the highway to hell. If I start hitch hiking, will someone come get me and take me somewhere where I can’t be a harm to others?
I obviously need your prayers and moral support. And chocolate. I really need chocolate. Yep…f’in chocolate.
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