Bad Words...

One of my new year's resolutions is to stop swearing. I don't mean the more harmless, 'Oh shit!' said as a real expletive, like if you dropped your favourite wine glass. I mean the often unnecessary use of the 'F' word, like if you dropped a full favourite wine glass.

I think it's possible to give it up but then again I'm Irish. We Irish have swearing entrenched in our genes and I'm not sure the scientists have isolated the particular DNA strand on the human genome yet. Besides, if I'm honest, I kinda like the odd swear word *Once more, hangs her head in shame*. It's just, for me, it provides a certain release. Like today, when I heard that our local planning office are playing silly buggers over our application and being all uptight about our garage proposal. Like we're suggesting the Taj Mahal with an up and over remote.

Grrr...

See, after I walked around making bad words up when I thought I'd run out - the weird thing is I FELT better. So today I consider my rant a necessary use of swearing, since it made me feel better and will make me much more pleasurable company when my husband gets home after his particularly gruelling day. And most importantly, nobody heard it except me.

On the other hand, trying to teach my daughter's Westie to say a bad word was, I admit, a step too far. Nobody likes dog corruption. It's not nice and it's not clever and those peeps in the Planning Department are, I'm sure, all lovely. Breathe...So, I tried to teach the dog to yawn instead. (I saw it on uTube - it can be done...)

I will try to stop. It's a good resolution. And I need to be more 'Om' (said with both fingers and thumbs in a circle) about life. And planners. And stuff in general.

** No animals were harmed in the making of this post**