Earlier on today I read a post by Wendy of the Rock where she talks about her love for bad language, particularly the ‘F’ word and how this used to upset her mother, but now she has become used to it.
I could really relate to this post, mainly as it brought back memories of how strict my mum and stepdad were when me and my siblings were growing up. I have to say that as a little girl, I was not much of a swearer, in fact I was very quiet and a bit of a ‘Goody Two Shoes’. Well truth be known,back in the ‘olden days’ we didn’t really hear much bad language, not even on the TV (Mind you I had to be in bed before 8 until I was about 12 years old)!
I never heard my mother swear at all, growing up, (I don’t really count ‘bugger’ , ‘bloody’ and ‘Christ’ as swearing. She did let the odd ‘shit’ slip out though (Ha Ha! bit of a double entendre there). Woe betide any of us that dared say any of those words though, We would be threatened as Wendy was, with our mouths being washed out with soap. My stepfather was a bit different though as he had a broad West Country ‘oooh-arrr’ type of accent that made us laugh, especially when he described someone falling as ‘going arse over tit’. Commonplace now but shocking to us kids back then. Mum would give him a bit of a look but he was oblivious to it anyway!
I remember when I was about 9 years old, and desperate to grow up quickly, was upset about my deficiency in the boob department. We had been singing Christmas Carols at school. A line from ‘In The Bleak Midwinter’ had piqued my interest, which was …’a breastful of milk and a mangerful of hay’. Hmmm, did that mean that if I drank a lot of milk then a would get big boobs, which I desperately wanted ( I was very innocent back then). anyway I asked my Mum for a glass of milk, and for some reason told her why I wanted it. She asked me to repeat what I had just said,
“To make my breastful of milk grow bigger” I chirped. WRONG! I got a clout for that!. We did not discuss intimate body parts in our house, not even allowed to say ‘bum’. Bottom was the correct term for everything front and back, girls and boys! Sex education we learned at school (or from other kids), and I dreaded telling my Mum when puberty started!
I would never swear in front of my older brothers and sisters either, particularly my eldest sister as I would probably get a smack off her as well (she dobbed me in to my Mum when she found a packet of cigarettes on me when I was 13)!!! Funnily enough Mum wasn’t as mad about that as she would be about us swearing!
My younger sister was and is a lot braver, and much feistier than I am. I remember once when we were teenagers; she was sleeping in my room, and as we used to fight like cat and dog then. I for once got really angry and told her to ‘piss off”. Oh, no, Mum’s room was next door and sure enough my step dad yelled, but at my sister, not me! No-one thought I had it in me to use such language!
Now of course. Mum doesn’t seem to mind her grand-children swearing, in fact she has been known to come out with a few choice words herself. Not only that she openly talks about sex (CRINGE), and has a filthy mind we’ve discovered. When we have large family gatherings we quite often end up playing games, and although they always start fairly innocently, ‘consequences’ ends up making an appearance, and the filthier the better! For those unfamiliar with it everyone starts off with a bit of paper, you write a girl’s name on it, fold it over, pass it to the next person and they write a boy’s name on it, fold it over, pass it on, write where they met, what they did, what he said, she said and how it ended up each time folding it over and passing it on. when that is over, you take it in turns to read out all the combinations. It is a playground game really, but you can get some VERY interesting scenarios if you have a dirty mind!
It is odd though that I still have that fear (or respect) in me that will not swear in front of my Mum!
We need to Make them follow the rules now!
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Yes. A complete about-turn. 🙂
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Memo to self… do NOT drink any more milk!
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Lucky you to be so generously proportioned!Sadly regardless of the amount of milk I drank, I am still sadly lacking in the boob department!
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I’ve got a terrible potty mouth. I’m not sure where it even came from because my parents rarely swore.
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Your parents must have a hell of a lot of self-control! 🙂
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I remember when I was a newly wed Twenty two year old and a colleague of my husband said that I was kinda cute, but had the mouth of a truck driver!
I was kinda proud of that, I must say.
PS: Things haven’t changed 38 years later……
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Ha Ha! I think that’s great; even better that you haven’t changed!
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My parents never curse and instilled it in us never to use ‘bad’ words. Goat is one of the strongest words I have for describing someone who has angered. It has just become second nature for me not to curse. Someone made very very angry one day and I felt like swearing. I was telling a friend about the incident and said I really felt like saying a few choice words. She rattled off a few good ones and asked whether I felt better for her swearing on my behalf. Amazingly, it felt good 🙂
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Actually I have to say, it’s not very nice to swear like a fishwife, but it DOES feel a hell of a lot better. I admire your restraint. 🙂
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Judy E Martin
Hello, and thanks for stopping by. I am Judy, in my (very) early fifties and decided that life definitely gets more interesting as it goes on! I am a wife and a mum and have just finished University as a Registered Nurse, after having worked as an Associate Practitioner in the NHS. I am also a poet and the author of my debut book, 'Rhymes of the Times.' I love to laugh, and I love rhyming words too, so I joined the two together, and my book was born. I am currently working on another book in the series also. I am a prolific blogger and enjoy writing funny stories, anecdotes, and anything really that takes my fancy.
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