Friday, February 3, 2012

Reducing Salt

I have a filthy mouth.

If I say “that sounds awesome!” it has probably been rephrased from what is in my head, which is generally closer to “that sounds totally motherfucking awesome!” When I pause and say, “I don’t really think that’s as well-thought out as it could be,” it is quite likely I am mentally rephrasing from: “Dude. Totally fucking stupid.”

I’ve shocked a seasoned male hockey player in the locker room with my unedited phrasing. To be fair, he wasn't shocked just by me my fellow female hockey players more than did their part. While an old hand at hockey, he was new to co-ed. He seemed to think that lady hockey players were, you know, LADIES. He’d been trying to watch his mouth, and the couple of times he swore, he said “pardon me,” and just about blushed. I kid you not. “Pardon me.” And there we were, not ladies at all, taking off our shirts like it was just us girls as we stood around in our jog bras (seriously? They’re jog bras, not transparent wisps of lingerie. No need to turn crimson and look at the ceiling) and saying fuck every third word. Poor guy just about got the vapors.

Anyway, I am aware that my in-head phrasing is not really appropriate in… well, it’s not really appropriate anywhere. The 1st graders I read to? Um… I’d rather not be involved in expanding their vocabulary through expletives. My own children? Uh, no. Stumpy? Why, who wouldn’t want to be asked to empty the dishwasher with about 5 expletives added to the request? Oh, right. Nobody. Although knowing me as he does, he is well aware of my natural bent of speech, and happily reported to my dad that my language during childbirth would've done any navy man proud. The soccer team I coach? I suspect the high level of parental support I have would drop if the girls went home and reported that Coach told them to stop fucking around and get to fucking work. My mom? You’ve got to be kidding. My dad? Well... I did get the tick from someone, and he might have been a navy man. The PTA? Sigh. Still no. You’d think I could be unedited in the (fucking filthy goddamn) locker room, but it turns out even there, my natural phrasing is sometimes just too salty, particularly for first-year players and older male hockey players who cling to the idea of Ladies (if I’m the lady, why is he the one that needs the fucking smelling salts?).

Oh wait: there are two creatures utterly unperturbed by the expletive-prone nature of my natural phrasing, especially if I pet them and give them snacks (and yes, that is an antler headband on Abelard's head - we, were, um... well, we were seeing if we could get antler headbands on them for some pictures, but both goats kept wiggling out of them and trying to eat them):

The thing is, Curly’s been sick for the last (goddamned motherfucking) month. More, really, if you count an illness in December that was before she was hospitalized, but linked to her current problems. The doctors can’t quite sort out why this is happening. It’s getting harder and harder, when I ask questions, not to include a string of expletives along with a couple of threats. My favorite hockey threat – taught to me by a girl I played with growing up – is to whack someone pretty hard (cross-check, check or punch; just make sure they're lying on the ice and you're standing over them) and then tell them that next time, you’ll really kick their ass. Works every time. Well, at least it's worked both times I've tried it. Still, if it works for a shrimpy player like me, it should work for anyone. But I digress. Again.

I get that it’s not productive to swear at and threaten medical personnel attempting (with a fucking craptastic lack of success, I might add) to solve the medical issues of someone you love. But it isn’t easy, tired, run-down and utterly stressed out, not to allow my thoughts to go free-range and unedited out of my mouth. So… pardon me if I allow them out a little here. Because while there is a whole world of people with bigger problems than ours (fortunately, it looks like Curly is suffering from something awful and acute, rather than something awful and chronic), this still fucking sucks.


Michael H said...

So fucking cool to hear that a soccer mom can talk like the rest of us!

Philly Sis said...

Well, jiminy cricket Meg, you never edit your expletives when speaking with me. I am shocked and appalled.

Meg said...

Michael - somewhat sadly, it's my in-my-head voice, not usually my out-loud voice. Most of the time, I prevent my out-loud voice from running amok. And given the way the in-my-head voice can give people the vapors, it's probably for the best, unless I start carrying smelling salts.

Philly Sis... dude. Someone might not be able to throw any motherfucking stones.

Philly Sis said...

I have no fucking idea what you are talking about Miss Pottymouth.