• Skip to content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

Sammiches & Psych Meds

Parenting, lifestyle, news commentary, and humor website.

  • Home
  • About
    • As Seen On
    • Beauty/Fashion
    • Cute
    • Education
    • Entertainment
    • Health
    • Humor
    • Life
    • Parenting
    • Politics/Community
    • Quizzes
    • Sex and Relationships
    • Special Needs
    • Disclaimer
    • Privacy Policy
  • Advertising/PR
  • Buy the Books!
  • Columns
    • Brewed and Unscrewed
    • Crazyland with Natalia
    • Dear Felicia
    • Dear Pre-Baby Me
    • Isms & Social Justice
    • Life On the Other Side
    • Musings on Motherhood: Is This Reality?
    • Sassy Mommy
    • The Unfit Father
    • To Insanity and Beyond
    • What Happens When Fictional Characters Stop Being Polite and Start Getting Real
    • Wisdom from Diapers to Diplomas
  • MockMom
  • News/Trending
  • Write for Us

Connect With Us!

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest
  • RSS
  • Twitter

Hey, Mom at the Pool Dropping Loud F-Bombs…

June 28, 2016 By Melissa L. Fenton

Hey Mom at the Pool Dropping Loud F Bombs...

First thing’s first: I swear. Ask my kids and they’ll tell you their mom doesn’t hold back when the shit hits the fan, and she makes sure everyone in the house hears loud and clear straight from her lips that the “SHIT has hit the FUCKING fan!” 

I’m a firm believer that nothing releases mom rage more quickly and efficiently than a big ‘ol, therapeutic “motherfucker,” and I can say with the utmost confidence I’ve dropped more F-bombs in front of my kids than Amy Schumer has dropped mics.

But the common denominator of all my binge profanity outbursts is that they occur in MY house. I try to lasso the bad language when I’m out in public, and especially around other people’s children. I don’t know what they hear in their homes, and I don’t want to be the first person a child hears foul language from, then freely repeats at home later that day.  I can’t be the reason your four-year-old comes home from the pool and says he doesn’t want another “fucking juice box, Mom.”  That job belongs solely to his parents.

Personally, the first thought that popped into my mind when I heard this mom using the F-word effortlessly and in perfect context was, “I like her. We could be friends.” But by the looks of some of the other pool dwellers, such was not the case.

The pearl clutchers in their floral tankinis were giving her the stink eye and inconspicuously attempting to float their children the other way. I will admit to my ears perking up while listening to her swear and thinking, “I wonder if my kids can hear her,” but I never once thought about saying something to her. I’m just not sure it was my place.

Perhaps if my kids were much younger and found themselves in their orange floaties stuck right next to her, I may have swooped in and pushed them elsewhere, but in that moment, I just didn’t think it was my place to say something to her.

I know we live in an “I can say whatever the hell I want” society while simultaneously trying to monitor our speech to be politically correct so as not to offend others, but does that speech also include public profanity around children? Not my call to make.

Some will argue that yes, it most certainly does, and there exists an unspoken common decency speech rule that we as mothers all abide by when we are in crowded public spaces. Not gonna lie, it’s a hard rule to follow. I mean, do you know how many times I’ve been dragging defiant kids out of a park and really, really had the urge to yell at the top of my lungs, “Just get in the fucking car already!”? More times than I care to count. But I buttoned up my lips, held those cuss words deep down in my throat, and then later let them out like a bad case of explosive diarrhea as soon as we got home. I’m classy like that.

If our next visit to the neighborhood pool has us sipping lemonade in the shallow end with F-bomb mom, and clearly there are many small children around that she is completely oblivious to, I may just have to swim on over and whisper something in her ear. And it’s gonna go like this:

“Hey, sexy mama! Having a good swim? Really fucking hot today, isn’t it? Man, these kids this summer, they are on my last fucking nerve all day! Yours too?

“Listen, I hear ya, I hear every word you’re saying, but see that mom over there? She hears it too, and I’m not sure she has the sense of humor you do, and she’s freaking a little on the inside that her kids can hear all the bad words you’re using. I think you should tone it down a bit before she throws a sinkable torpedo at your head. Sound good?

“And if you ever need to brain dump some serious F-bombs on someone because your kids are being assholes and you’ve had it, I live two streets down, 4th house on the right. Walk the fuck right in, OK?”

Get Weekly Updates!

Sign up today for free and be the first to get notified of new posts just once per week.

You have Successfully Subscribed!

  • About the Author

About Melissa L. Fenton

Melissa L. Fenton writes at 4boysmother. Follow her on Facebook

Share this:

  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)
  • More
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window)
  • Click to print (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)

Related

Filed Under: Musings on Motherhood: Is This Reality?

FROM SITES WE LOVE

Primary Sidebar

BUY THE BOOKS!

From Sites We Love

Footer

Check the Vaults

Copyright © 2019 SPM Writing and Consulting, LLC · All Rights Reserved · Don't steal our stuff. We'll find you, and it'll hurt. We're not even kidding. Also, some posts may contain affiliate links, meaning we'll make fractions of pennies if you buy anything from them. Ballin'! See site Disclaimer in the About section for additional details. · Log in