When I was a kid, I developed a coping mechanism that I would use in an attempt to make things better than they really were. I tried to inject a little humor into otherwise sticky situations, just to kind of take the pressure off.
Turns out, that doesn't always work and I HATE that. For those of you who've known me for a great deal of time, you know that I have always had a colorful vocabulary. Colorful is probably not the word I am looking for. What I am trying to say is, I swear an awful lot and it started happening at a young age. And in my defense, I believe I have always used these swear words correctly, but my mother objected nearly always.
I was about 10-11 years old and still completely manageable. My mother was a school teacher and was an expert at handling kids but I have to admit that I was a challenge sometimes. Anyhow, I was trying to accomplish something and let go with a "God Damn It!". Mom hollered, "watch your mouth" to which I'm sure I mumbled something along the lines of "watch YOUR mouth". (Of course I mumbled it or my mother would have whipped my ass....)
Anyhow, a few minutes later I let go with something else and mom screamed my name. I'd been around long enough to know that when mom screamed my name, that was short hand for "you are about one cuss word away from an ass whipping." Let me clean this up a bit. My mother wasn't a tyrant and I didn't get my ass whipped a lot. I was what I like to call "a hard learner" and sometimes I needed a bit of "encouragement" to make better choices.
So, I am sitting there trying to figure out how to get about accomplishing this task without swearing and accidentally drop the dreaded F-Bomb. Mom blew a gasket... she marched into my room, snatched me up by the arm and started hauling my ass down the hall. I'm thinking, "what is about to happen" when my mom says.... "You're going to wash your mouth out with soap!" I thought, "now would be a great time to inject a little humor into the situation" because the look on my mothers face assured me that she meant business.
She dragged my sorry butt to the kitchen sink, turned the water on and grabbed a bar of Zest that was sitting
there. She grabbed the bar of soap, ran it under the water and handed it to me and nodded. (That meant get it in your mouth, but like I said, I am a hard learner.) "What in the hell am I supposed to do with this?" I said. Guess what? Another wrong choice of words. There is a pattern developing here and I wasn't aware of it. Mom on the other hand? Yeah, she was over my ass! "Stick it in your mouth!" she yelled. I knew there was no getting away so I stuck it in my mouth, rubbed it on my teeth and then said. "Yum".....
Guess what? Trying to be funny at this particular moment was going to get me murdered and I now knew that from the look on mom's face. Before I could think of anything witty to say, mom busted out into the worlds first mixed martial arts expert, had me in a head lock in a split second and had the bar of soap in her other hand. Dire circumstances indeed. Mom was stabbing me in the nose, eyes, and forehead all the while screaming "take a bite". By now I learned enough to not say anything.
I opened my mouth and got a way bigger bite than I intended. "Chew it up..." she says. I start to chew which brought about a gagging spell that I wouldn't ever forget. She stood me up over the sink and I gagged and puked for the better part of 5 miuntes! Mom looked at me. I could tell that she didn't want me to barf and maybe felt a bit of guilt over the whole thing. "I did that because I love you and I am sick of your language. It's not polite and you've always had good manners. I hope you learned your lesson" she said.
Mom was clearly upset and I knew I was wrong. I looked mom dead in the eye and said, "I'm sorry mom and I did learn my lesson. Soap tastes like shit...."
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