I’ve written before about how I used to suffer from Vehicular Tourette’s. I’ve come a long way. I purposely watch my word-choice when around Claire, because she’ll repeat what I say and use it in a way that would point a huge “Yep, she totally got that from me” finger my way. Having a very verbal child has pretty much cured me.
I know there are those who would tsk-tsk for even hearing me admit that I swear at all, but there you have it. I love using clever words properly, and it just so happens that some of those words are little more brightly colored than others.
…but, that being said, I don’t swear in mixed company. I don’t swear on the blog. I don’t swear around Claire. And, I don’t swear in the car. Usually.
A few months ago, we were driving around town, and this man totally cut me off. He nearly hit my car, and it totally caught me by surprise.
“Jackass!” I yelled, out loud. It was a purely involuntary reaction, and the word fell right out of my mouth when I stomped on the brake.
As soon as I heard myself say it, I glanced in the rear-view mirror to see if Claire was paying attention. There is a list a mile long of words much worse than that, but still…probably not a good idea to use it in front of Claire. I was so glad it was that word that fell out and not another, harder to explain word.
“That man almost hit our car!” I said, still rattled. “But, it’s okay, Claire. He didn’t. Everything is okay.”
“What’s a jackass, Momma?” she asked innocently.
“It’s another name for a donkey,” I said, without even missing a beat.
What? It is.
“Why did you call that man a jackass, Momma?”
“Well, I said that because he wasn’t driving very well, and he almost hit us!”
“And donkeys don’t drive very well…do they, Momma?” she asked.
“That’s exactly right, Claire! They certainly don’t.”
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