Everyone's a douche bag

So, I’ve got two kids. One, my son, is 11 months. The other, my daughter, is more than two. Not quite three.

In any event, a couple months ago my daughter started repeating every single word that comes out of my mouth.

This worries me a bit.

As I’ve stated before, I’ve said 'so long' to the word FUCK a number of months ago.

But, I haven’t quite shaken a lot of other words.

For example, lately I’ve been calling everyone DOUCHE BAG.

When a guy is passing me on the right side of the highway, I call him a DOUCHE BAG.

When a lady is on her cell-phone at a stoplight, I call her a DOUCHE BAG.

When my neighbor is mowing his lawn for the fourth time during the same week, I call him a DOUCHE BAG

When the teenager at the local bakery puts too much cream cheese on my bagel and fills up my coffee too high, I call her a DOUCHE BAG.

When my checking account gets overdrawn and I receive a $35 late fee, I call myself a DOUCHE BAG.

You get the point.

The funny thing is that I haven’t used the word DOUCHE BAG since high school.

I’m 36. So that’s a pretty long time…18 years to be exact.

But - and here’s the kicker - I’m starting to really like my new cussword.

In fact, it’s turning out to be my choice expletive for 2008.

It’s a bit more sanitary than FUCKER, FAG, CUM LIP or STUPID FUCK FACE DICK SUCKER.

Yet, to me, it has a much stronger impact than IDIOT, FOOL or JERK.

Quite frankly, it’s turning out to be my most satisfying cussword to date.

At least until my daughter is in the car. That’s when I use my kid-friendly stand-by...FRIGGIN GOOFBALL!

Adios FUCK! It was nice knowing ya.

For the most part, I consider myself a pretty good parent.

Sure, there are those night infant feedings that can really grain on your nerves and make you question your sanity.

But, pretty much, I think I do a pretty good job, with one exception.

Both my wife-to-be and I cuss like truck-driving, dock-working Teamsters.

And I'm not talking 'darn-it' and 'oh phooey' cussing.

Please. That's amateur hour bullshit.

I'm talking FUCKING, GODDAMMIT, COCK-SUCKING, ASSHOLE, DICKHEAD, FUCKFACE, MOTHER FUCKER cussing.

Look, if you read this post, you know I loooooove the word FUCK. I think I've mentioned it on more than one occassion. Hell, I even drew a cartoon about it.

But with my almost two-year old daughter running around the house and mimicking every word that we say such as 'COOL' and 'WOW' or even 'YAY', I don't want to be the one responsible for teaching her that the word 'SHIT-EATING ASSHOLE' is as cool a word as 'MOO' or 'RUFF RUFF' or even 'CHOO CHOO'.

And I'm not naive. I know it's a brutal word out there. And, with as many R-rated movies as I watch not to mention my extensive hip-hop library growing at an alarming rate each week, I know it's inevitable that she will eventually pick up a cussword or two around the house.

But it's not going to be from my lips.

I also know that down the line, she's going to be hanging out with her little brother and possibly and couple other snotty nosed kids saying cusswords to one another and giggling like little hyenas.

At least, that's what my brother and I did.

But, until that time, we've both decided to put all of our cusswords into a sack, tie it and, like a farmer with a bagful of newborn bastard puppies, toss it into some unmarked stream only to be opened up later years down the line.

Oh, it's not going to be easy. I'll be the first to admit It's going to be pretty hard to not scream 'COCKSUCKING MOTHER FUCKER!' to some old man who pulls out in front of me on the highway going 15 miles an hour. Probably harder than kicking a cigarette, heroin or even crystal meth habit.

But, I'm sure it can be done.

Hey, at least, I have this blog to turn to as an outlet for my inner FUCKS.