Let’s face it. The F word can sometimes get a bad rap. It’s usually followed by a word of exasperation, irritation, or love. I am a big fan of the F word. I use it as much as possible, until it’s banned for being politically incorrect. I actually use it too much:
When my mother-in-law would call last minute to announce she was coming to visit. “I’m right around the corner.” With five kids, an English Mastiff, four kittens and a cleaning lady once a week, my house was never up to her standards. I’d yell, “Scott your mom is on her way. She’s five minutes up the road.” “Ohhhh F…….!”
When the principal called to say my son was being suspended, I hung up the phone and planned his grounding sentence.
When I realized at two a.m. that I’d forgotten to call my sister for her birthday two days ago, “Oh F……!”
When my thirteen year -old -daughter got mad at me for not buying her a CD titled Moist Vagina, she walked out of the house angry. She returned with a fluff ball of a stuffed kitten posed perfectly in her hand. I thought it was stuffed until it scratched its ear and meowed. I closed her bedroom door. “Oh F…….!”
Years ago, my in-laws came for Thanksgiving dinner. Miss Twinkle Toes stepped in a huge pile of dog poop at our curb. She walked in and announced, “Anne, your turkey stinks!” After realizing the odor wasn’t coming from the oven, she then toured my house upstairs and down looking for that horrible smell. As we pulled out the carpet extractor and spent hours cleaning poop spots from her tour.
When my two-year-old granddaughter called me, after finding my daughter’s phone while mommy was in the shower, she walked around the house with me on Face time. Then she left me in the toy box and closed the lid. “Night, Night, Gigi.”
When my three year old granddaughter told the mailman, “My Gigi has big boobs.” I was mortified and screamed, “Oh F…”
When my husband offered to make me coffee, but got sidetracked on Twitter, I thirstily, yelled, “I’ll make my own!” He finally arrived with his own fresh brew and spilled it all over my lap.
My grandson likes to play hide and seek on Face time. He carries me like a madman running through a forest being chased by a bear. We go at warp speed. Then he tells me, “Shhh! be very quiet,” as he holds the phone close to his face. “Shhhh! No one can find us in my room.” After ten minutes, I yelled to my daughter, “Where are you? We’re still hiding here.” He gets up and closes his bedroom door. “Ohhhhh….F!”
Some days you just have to use the F word. Let’s face it, some days it’s the only word. And let’s all remember that none of us are perfect. We all have something going on. And that’s why I find it best to use the F word on as many occasions as possible. It’s a good reminder that while we may be tired, frustrated, or irritated, there’s a perfect word to sum it all up.