This post has been mulling in my head for quite
some time. I’ve had a hard time putting my thoughts in a cohesive
manner, so I apologize for the delay. First of all, this is a post
where I admit some of my flaws. This isn’t particularly
easy for me, to I have to do it nonetheless. So, here goes.
During the last week of school, Keith called me at
work to tell me that Kasey got off the bus crying. Apparently, a
12-year-old on the bus taught him the F word and Kasey repeated it. The
bus monitor heard them and made them sit in separate
seats. Once he got in the house, Keith gave him a good talking to and
took away his iPod, video games and TV for four days. Once I got home, I
gave him holy hell, too. I explained to him that the F word was one of
the very worst words you can ever say and
that I didn’t want to ever hear about him saying it ever again.
Now, here’s where I admit that I am one of the
worst with swearing. Everyone says that, when Kasey goes to bed, I turn
into Trucker Erika. While I try to not swear in front of Kasey, I
still do sometimes. Luckily, for the most part,
he knows what words are really bad and what words aren’t. If he isn’t
sure, he’ll ask me first if it is a bad word.
The next day, while at the sitter’s, one of the
kids there told Kasey’s sitter that he said the F word again, but this
time in a different context. Of course she told me and Kasey
immediately started crying. When we got home, I had no
choice but to take away his iPod, video games and TV for three more
days and he lost toys altogether for four days.
