Despite my best efforts to convince Cat and Tate that profanity is just another set a word choices and not particularly exciting, their fascination with bad words remains.

Driving to school this week, Cat asked me “Mom, what does the d-word mean?”

“The d-word? Do you mean damn or dammit?”

“Mom said DAMMIT, MOM said DAMMIT” Tate yelled gleefully.

“I was not cursing, Tate,” I said, “I was asking for clarification. I wanted to be sure Cat and I were talking about the same words before I answered her question. Maybe you two know profanity starting with d that I don’t know yet.”

“That was the word, Mom,” Cat said. “What does it mean?”

“Well,” I said, “it is a word adults use when they are tired or angry or frustrated or when something goes wrong. Like I might say it if I walked into the laundry room and saw that Scarlett ate another dog bed or if I had just cleaned the family room and then walked in to find a huge mess. It’s an indication that reality isn’t matching your expectation.”

Cat sat quietly for a few minutes and then said with genuine surprise, “Wow, Mom, I guess we should be surprised that you don’t use that one a lot more often.”