Please deposit another *!@#$%*! quarter...

So as I was sitting in the living room reading my favorite literary masterpiece, Facebook posts, and I heard my then 4 year old daughter exclaim to little Georgie from the dining room that he'd better stop his current behavior or she would, "Smack him on his ass...hole!" Now she couldn't just stop with ass...nah, she had to throw in the "hole" for added emphasis, that's my girl! Which was when I realized...oh shit, that's MY girl! She sounds like mini me...a tiny foul mouthed truck driver. That coupled with her shining disposition will surely get her expelled from Kindergarten...which is why truck driving could be a viable future for her.

Okay, so I admittedly love profanity...it's so damned expressive; and hell, even spell check recognizes them as words. I think most of us will admit that in moments of anger and complete irritation, profanity seems not only appropriate, but justifiable. Of course, as parents we MUST develop some self censorship. And so I did, at that moment...by way of the "Bad Word Jar". Now most of my family and friends are aware of the bad word jar (as many have already contributed to it after spending 35 seconds in my house), but this is how it works, quite simple really. I created the "jar" out of an old plastic Cajun Party Mix container (I love that shit!). I boldly labeled it, including the restitution fees for offenses... 25 cents per bad word (shit, fuck, damn, hell); 50 cents for doubles (this would be your mother fuckers and god dammits- sorry my religious friends, but it happens...). I prominently displayed the ugly (in more ways than one) jar in the living room, so everyone would remember. Hey, I don't want to hear all the bitching when I shake a quarter out from under Cinderella's piggy bank skirt after Shannon threatens another asshole smack, m'kay.

The jar, by my initial design, was intended to fund a trip to Vegas for me...since I was clearly paying the most in. Then I noticed that the other adults weren't coughing up the curse(d) cash for their offenses. Timid as I am, I pointed out to the cheap asses that they needed to start paying in (Momma wants to hit the slots). So they started to get on board by shoving the occasional $5 or $10 spot into the jar to cover past and no doubt upcoming profane proclamations...BUT naturally the greedy bastards; those very same bastards that get to leave the house for work each day, would take it right back as soon as they needed gas, lunch or toll money. Like that's more important than my Vegas tattoo fund...shit! One nice thing however, is the children are swearing less (how fricking sad is that for a mommy to admit??), and have deemed themselves the "Bad Money Jar" police...quick to notify the adults of any violations they make, as well as tattling on each other. If you ask me, I did one fine ass job of parenting in this situation!

One minor issue I am trying to resolve with the jar, however, is Harry...he is a big "double offender". When Harry gets particularly whiny or upset he likes to cry out, "God dammit!" This is an issue of course because, well, he is autistic and has no clue what a bad word is...plus, it's actually quite a good thing, since he is using it appropriately and spontaneously...and lastly, he has no money...can't get blood out of a stone. On a more positive note, as I look for my closing "silver lining", is that I swore 23 times in this post alone (with 3 doubles), wracking up a whopping $5.75...My jar is filling up again :o)