I swear a little too much. Yeah, I am aware of it. But I just can't f***ing stop! Haha. I don't know where I picked up this charming habit, exactly, but I'm told it started young.
Oh, man, that's terrible.
Constrastingly, Julia - also known as My Good Half - doesn't swear much. At all. Much of at all. Did that make sense? Probably not. But yeah, Julia doesn't really swear. Except when she has to: I remember one day in Year 6, Lachlan Notley told Julia he would give her a packet of Tic Tacs if she said "shit". She said it. I think Lachlan Notley felt pretty stupid.
When Catherine and I were like 6 and 7, we had a babysitter named Kelly, who watched us in the mornings before school because our parents left so early for work. I think Kelly must have liked us, because she let us get away with pretty much anything. Yes, I think she must have liked us quite a bit. Or maybe she just didn't give a shit. Either way, we totally took advantage of the situation, especially in the swearing department. We said it all. We really let it rip. And we thought it was hilarious. Now that I'm old and wise and babysit a 6-year-old kid on a regular basis, I find this pretty shocking. Did I really start swearing that young? F*** yeah, I did!
I think I'm pretty good about censoring myself in public though. And by 'in public', I really mean 'on my blog'. Did you notice? Let's rewind:
"I swear a little too much. Yeah, I am aware of it. But I just can't f***ing stop!"
See that? That, right there? Where I used asterixs to censor myself? Yeah. Yeah! So in Blog-Public, I'm totally polite. Real-Public...that's another story.
Ah, well. F*** it!
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