I remember when I was a kid getting smacked up-side the dome for dropping a “shit” or a “damn” when I screwed something up. It wasn’t that my dad didn’t use that kind of language around me, it was that those words were reserved for only certain situations away from the public ear. I started to pick up on each cuss word’s place throughout the course of daily life and I started to understand when and were to use them. I got better and better at holding my tongue around my parents and teachers and bosses, but as soon as I was free of all formal restraints, I went fuckin’ crazy with that shit, bitches.

I also remember around 5th or 6th grade, playing football at recess and every other word you heard or used was a cuss word. Because it was a Catholic school there was this large pent up aggression towards following rules that just seemed dumb to us kids, cussing being one of them.

You didn’t say “HIKE!” You said “Fuckin’ HIIIIKE!”

It was this powerful sense of doing something wrong that brought most of us kids together as rule breakers, rebels and shitkickers.

When I got to high school, again a Catholic school, I can recall conversations flowing out of our mouths dropping well placed cuss words as verbs rather than just exclamations. Shittin’ me. Fuckin’ with me. Quitcherbitchin’. Various types of action were placed within the context of the swear, and cussing became an art form. It was a way to let off steam without punching someone, and if you shared it appropriately away from the nagging ears of teachers and parents, it was akin to drinking in public.

Then college turned me on to a whole new way of feeling people out, utilizing cuss words as a barometer for how down to earth someone was. Say you’re on an interview and the guy asking you questions and looking at you over the desk asks you about something on your resume. You describe the event or whatever without delay and he responds back like a guy you’re drinking with “You have to be shittin’ on me, you serious?”.

Boom. Open door to not only become a friend with this person, but you’ve just allowed yourself into his little club. He likes you. He just said shit in front of you on an interview. You have this in the fuckin’ bag! Soon I started noticing that if people older than myself allowed themselves to relax and drop a few swear words in front of me, I was pretty sure I could act more myself. Not that swearing was a major part of who I was, but shit, I fuckin’ cuss like a trucker when I’m comfortable, and I’m okay with that not being okay to a large number of fuckin’ people.

Now as a parent, I understand and practice restraint when talking around my kids, nephews and nieces, and other people’s kids. I don’t want my 2 year old son walking into daycare sayin’ “Holla bitches!”. (Not that I wouldn’t laugh my ass off.) Nor do I want my son to be looked down upon because his parents (or parent, Julie is half cuss queen, half nun) have dirty mouths. I want my son to learn as I did about the amazing power of using words that were once completely off-limits as a way of venting anger, frustration and letting off steam that would normally build up because of a cork in my ass that’s limiting my word usage.

I find the nicest people on the planet know how to drop a good “well, fuck” once in a while. Whether they do it alone or around a few friends is up to them, but I know that the release of stress via saying “OH SUGARPLUMS!” is probably half of what a well timed “Shit Bitch!” can allow you to feel.

In parenting I find a lot of things that piss me off that are completely dumb: Avent bottles leak all over the fucking place. Getting pooped on. Getting puked on down the back of my shirt and I don’t realize until I see the white chunks on the couch, etc. All of these things are fucking annoying. Dumb and inconsequential in the long run, but still, fucking annoying.

If I were a deadbeat, I’d drink a ton, yell at my wife and kids or take out my frustrations physically. I’m not that guy. No, I’m the guy who can relax and feel oh so much better by dropping a few f-bombs out of earshot of my 3,876 kids.

But why do you fucking cuss so much with your fingers Joel?

Simply put? It makes me feel like I’m being more honest with myself and other people if I type like how I would talk if me and you were at a bar shooting darts, taking back jaeger bombs and chatting about the fucking Cubs and Bears. If you are my friend, which you may or may not be, I hope I would feel comfortable enough to fucking cuss in front of you. If I wasn’t, well, we might not be destined to be that good of friends.

Bang your bible, throw up your nose, talk shit behind my back that I’m a caveman or a dicknose, whatever. When my kid asks why it’s okay for me to cuss and not okay for him to, I will tell him honestly:

Society deems it inappropriate that children use words like shit, damn, fuck and bitch. Why? Well, it’s language specially reserved for maturity, when you have so many responsibilities that you wouldn’t dare dream of not taking life seriously everywhere else besides talking a little shit with your buddies. When you go to work everyday, take care of your kids everyday, pay your bills on time, put food on the table and clothes on everyone’s back, you can cuss your fucking heart out.

Until then little man, cuss your ass off. Just don’t let me, your mom, your grandparents, your teachers, or other adults you don’t know hear you. You never know, those people might be shiteating bitches who don’t know the goddamn beauty that a fucking cuss word brings to the soul of those man enough to admit that there is enjoyment in saying such words.

I promise not to intentionally offend you if I meet you in public, but you got here somehow you dumb shit! Fuckin’ cheers.

I am a father that cusses. Because cuss words fucking rule.

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