She said what?

Phrases I am saying today, ending in dammit. Please attach "dammit" to the end of each of these, and it will be just like being at my house today:

It's snowing again
I'm tired
I can't put laundry off any longer
I ache
I don't want to do anything today

I know dammit is not a word, but that's how I say it. You must say it at the appropriate speed to attain true dammit pronunciation. It's a fast and furious little expression that complements other expletives quite well. There has already been much expletive usage in my house this morning. Nothing like a tired, achy Cindy to stir up the foul mouth, but not in front of the kids of course.

Ok, so maybe sometimes I have sworn in front of the kids, but it's a rarity. One of my slip-ups did result in a side-splitting incident while shopping. J was giving me shit (see, no kids here), so I blurted out, "You can just kiss my ass!" It was all in fun. Don't think I'm telling John to lay lip on my posterior in a serious manner. Well, we won't get into that. But anyway, from the back seat, in her cute little voice, Booie says, "Yeah! You can kiss Mommy's ass!" Not only did she say it. She said it with great enthusiasm. Hammy giggled like he was being tickled to death, and I literally bent over from laughing so hard. Thank God we weren't in the store. I have since curtailed the use of even primetime swearing for fear Booie will soon be telling classmates and teachers to smooch her behind. But wouldn't it be a laugh riot? Ok, so it's not so funny after the first time.

Hammy has his own story, but he was in public. We were at our favorite white trash eatery (aka Denny's) waiting for food. Hammy was about three at the time, and John was drawing pictures on a placemat to keep the antsy toddler occupied. John would draw something and have Hammy guess what it was. Little did we know, drawing a car would merit, "Oh shit! It's a car!" from our three-year-old's mouth. I honestly don't know what possessed him to say that, but I will take the liberty of blaming the ex, since he's not here to defend himself. You know I would never have said such a thing. What are exes good for if not to blame all the bad stuff that happens?

But back to the story at hand� Hammy was so loud, the entire section of the restaurant turned and looked at us. I don't know how big my eyes got or how wide my mouth dropped open, but I think if I had moved at the time, my eyeballs might very well have fallen right out of my head. The waiter, who happened to be standing right at the table, tried to offer an excuse by saying, "He must get that from cartoons." What the hell? South Park wasn't even on the air yet, and I have yet to hear Bugs Bunny say "shit," but we just nodded and accepted the pathetic excuse, because we had none other than we are horrible parents who swear like sailors in front of our children.

Fortunately, that isn't really true, because each child has only had one swearing episode, and it took Booie two years longer than it did Hammy. Just so you don't think I'm a big rotten potty-mouth in front of the kids. I leave that up to the big rotten potty-mouth teenagers at the mall or the assholes in cars or the shithead businessman who looks right at my kids without pause in his 8000-decibel, fuck-laden conversation with his girlfriend. No, it's not any of their responsibility to raise my kids or shelter them or whatever, but there are these things called respect and decency. No really, there is. Look it up. They really are words in the dictionary. I know they are archaic in this usage, but really. Do you have a "fuck" quota or something? Jeez. Some things are meant for the adult world, and I think swearing (like sex, I mean how gross is that?) is one of them.

And here I was just going to bitch about doing housework again.

I really thought I'd run again today, and it would probably be good for me, but I am so damn achy from yesterday's strength training that going up and down the stairs to do laundry will have to suffice. Maybe if John wants to Tae-bo later, I'll do that, but all I want right now is a few extra hours sleep. The band is recording the rest of their CD, so John was out late last night, which meant I couldn't sleep. I tried. It didn't happen. I don't think it's a good idea to be running when I'm this worn out.

I have a hair inside my shirt, and I can't find it. It is itching me to my very death, so on that note, I'm done. I have to take this shirt off and remove that hair, dammit. (Sorry kiddies!)