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I very seldom cuss. The few words that I used to use I trained myself out of after the kids were born.
However, one day we had a bunch of relatives over, including kids. We were all in the kitchen. So there I was pouring spaghetti sauce from the pot into a nice bowl for the table. At which point my hand slipped and I poured a big glop of it into my loafer.
Not on. In.
I had no control over the matter. I said F*ck in a rather loud voice. The room got really quiet.
My youngest, who was seven at the time, pipes up, "Daddy, what's 'fawk'?"
"Honey", I said, "it's a word you should never, ever use -- unless you pour spaghetti sauce in your shoe."
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