THE "F" WORD
If memory serves me it was a warm day at the end of August. One of those feel good days that fills your whole body with contentment and excitement. Our young family was together, myself, Peggy my wonderful wife and our two beautiful daughters, Cindy and Vicki. We had just picked the girls up from school and were excited to hear about their day. Vicki was in kindergarten so everything about school was new to her and Cindy was growing up and forging ahead toward her higher education. Cindy was in first grade. As we rode down the road, Peggy and I were all smiles in anticipation of the stories we were about to hear. The stories about how the girls liked their new teachers and about how nice and pretty they were. The stories about the new friends they had made and the fun things they had done. We also wanted to hear about what they had learned......or did we?
As Cindy was telling us about her day at school she told us that one of the boys had said the worse word you could ever say. "What did he say?" I asked. Cindy then said, "Oh it was awful, no way could she tell us what the word was." Peggy then asked her what letter the word started with. Her quick reply was, "It starts with an "F" and has four letters. I was a young man at the time but could feel my blood pressure going up. I was becoming angry. We had to get to the bottom of this. Who would teach a child to use this type of language. These were first graders. Peggy then told Cindy..."It's OK just tell me the word the boy said." Again Cindy refused saying it was an awful word. Finally Peggy told Cindy..."Just lean over here and whisper the word in my ear, or better yet, Just spell it for me. No one will hear it but me." Cindy slowly leaned over close to Peggy. She got her lips as close to Peggy's ear as possible to ensure that no one else could possibly hear her. As she spelled this horrible word out in a whisper that only her mother could hear.....as she spelled this awful four letter word that started with the letter "F"...... A smile began to wash over her mothers face which soon turned into laughter. What was this awful word I now asked Peggy, spell it out for me to which she slowly spelled "F...A...N...Y.......So on this day in school my oldest daughter had learned the word "fanny", but she had yet to learn to spell it correctly.
We have told this story often and it always brings a smile to my face. It is one of those stories that I will always keep in my memory bank. But as I was thinking about this story today, I got to thinking about how we learn things. When did you learn your first "cuss" word? Was it from a classmate or a family member? We're you offended by it? I honestly don't remember the first cuss word I learned. I'm sure I was young. I do remember a couple times in my early life when I heard someone say a cuss word and it had an effect on me. One was at a basketball game Murphy High was playing in. I really looked up to that team. They were like heroes to me. It was half time and as they came off the court I heard one of the players say a cuss word. I could tell he was angry and I can remember asking myself.."Is anger reason enough to use bad language?" The other time I can remember is I was helping my Dad on his bread route. I must have been 7 or 8. Dad had made a mistake and he was upset with himself, and again in anger out came a cuss word. It is the only time in my life I can remember my Dad cussing. I'm sure he had cussed before and I'm sure he cussed again but I never heard him. As I look back on this time I'm glad I heard him cuss. It made me realize he wasn't perfect after all. It made me realize we all make mistakes in life, even our dads, but we must put those mistakes behind us and keep on going forward.
Sometimes I worry about the stories I tell my grandchildren. About my growing up and the things I did. They probably don't understand that times were different then. Maybe I shouldn't tell then about hitchhiking to Florida at an early age or riding down Stone Mountain on a bicycle back when it was just a big rock in the middle of the woods. Or about walking downtown on the railroad tracks or hunting for rats in Underground Atlanta before it was Underground Atlanta. Stories about segregation and integration, about ax handles and fire hoses. Stories of times spent in the pool halls and of skipping school. I worry if these stories will give them ideas of things they could do and I wonder if some of these stories might embarrass them. Then I began to wonder if maybe they are at a time in their life when they don't want to share everything that is happening in their life with me. Could they be afraid of giving me ideas of things to try. Is it possible they are afraid they may embarrass me if I knew all about their life. After all.... "WE DO LIVE IN A DIFFERENT TIME."
Which reminds me..."Did I ever tell you about the time.........................."
