I've made a promise to my children that I will make my best efforts to watch my sailor mouth. It's my job as a parent and a MOTHER to not sound like the opening credits of Jersey Shore. (I'm just guessing. I've never actually watched. Haha.) My handful of years in the Army have taught me many things, one of which is cussing better than a junkie on a 5 day bender. Growing up, I had a pretty good idea of the colorful variety of words to choose from but it wasn't until I became a member of the armed forces that I learned the many combinations in which you could use them. For example, if you call someone a (@!!&*), that's actually a hybrid of (#$#&) and (?!!@#). See what I'm saying! The possibilities are endless!
I digress. To uphold my promise, when an expletive happens to accidentally slip out, I owe them 20 crunches. 20 crunches per word, that is. Let's just say I'm in the hundreds. Apparently the count doesn't start over with each new day. All I know is, I'm trying. I'm either going to have the vocabulary of a nun at mass or the abs of John Cena. (Have you seen that guy! Wowza!) I'm not sure which I prefer at this point. I better get crackin' on the ones I already owe. I don't know if I'll be this agile in the nursing home.