I curse. A lot. Eversince I discovered the bitter shocking impact of the f word and the c word and the other words, I haven’t stopped using them, not for a f****ng minute.
However, like everything in life, things change when having kids. She is too young to understand curses but very soon she will be able to pick things up. It is high time to clean up my mouth, and daddy’s. It will be very hard especially when you hit your little toe really hard on the couch’s metal legs.
Moments like this, only screaming the f word can satisfy your anger and pain. But again, the dirt has to be tidied up. So now I speak in fudge codes, switching to sugar and shoot. But when the moment requires an f word, there is always my native tongue’s equivalent of it. So there may be no f and more fudge but there will always be putang ina.