My Potty Mouth

When life calls for profanity.

-Candace Cavanaugh Buehner

Oh, Serena, I have been there.

Not literally THERE, of course, the Serena in question being Serena Williams and the “there” in this particular situation being the US Open, where, as everyone now knows, Serena lost her temper in the quarterfinal match when she let loose on a lineswoman who dared to call Serena on a foot fault. A few choice words, and suddenly, SWEARING was news.

Serena shouldn’t have said what she said when she said it - but behind closed doors, maybe with just her coach and Venus as her audience? Serena could have vented privately with those f-bombs, enjoyed a rueful chuckle or two, and then collected her US Open victory with no one being the wiser.

I admire those who don’t swear, but for most of us, I have to think that the everyday annoyances of life (much less the really BIG irritations) become much more bearable when we use profanity to put them in perspective. The greater the stress, the more creative the swearing becomes. For example:

• Your alarm goes off, and you wake to the sounds of the garbage truck in front of your house. You realize that your husband forgot to take the trash out, which means that the horrible smelly mess of a garbage can is going to sit there, rotting, for another week. Profanity scale? 2 out of 10, since you feel better when you remember that it’s not YOUR problem to deal with next week (ha ha ha!).

• You are at the park, happily playing with your children, when your younger, very potty-trained child announces sheepishly that he/she has suddenly had an accident (the bad second kind) in his pants.
Profanity scale? 5 out of 10. And we all know what profanity was used in that particular shi—sorry, SI-tuation.