Lawd have mercy, my husband is surely going to start beating me!  He's warned me over and over again "Honey, watch your language!  Don't cuss or say bad words in front of Andrew--he's picking up everything you say!  He's absorbing it like a sponge."

I always just brush him off like "Yeah, yeah!  I got this. I'm his momma. I know how to train him right.  I'm reading my mothering books and remembering how my aunties taught me... so I definitely know what to do and what not to do."

When I was about seven, my aunt Mary Joe had taught me all the cuss words and by the time I was 9, my aunt Darnitha would let me light her cigarettes on the stove in the kitchen!  And I'd better not get them wet by puffing on it.

So I know I ain't wanna go that route--but old habits die hard. I still cuss a lot--I gotta catch myself!  And I use the word "ni$$er" like it's going out of style. 

I've cut back a lot--but sometimes--if I'm around the house talking on the phone to an old friend, I slip back into my former cussing life.  And Andrew is always RIGHT there to hear what I'm saying.

I was on the phone this week with somebody, I can't even remember who--and I was like "Oh no, that's bull$hit!" Child, I thought Andrew was in the playroom--but oh no, he was right there at my leg--and yelled out, in clear English "Bull$hit!"  I nearly died. All I could think was "Shawn is going to kill me!" 

I tried to tell him "No son, don't say that... bad word!"

He looked at me, smiled and said "Bull$hit!"

I wanna know why it takes me two days to teach him words like "table" and "chair", but "bull$hit" he picks up instantly?

We were running in the house the other day and I hit my bare foot on the table--and yelled out "Damn!  That hurts!"  Of course, my son said "Mommy, that damn hurts!"

I was too shame!  I called Shawn at work and broke the news to him--that his wife is ghetto--is trying--but can't stop cussing completely and is negatively influencing his child.  He informed me that he had another woman on standby who wanted to be his wife and Andrew's momma--and he was giving me a two week notice that he's phasing me out of my position as stay at home mom.

We agreed, any time I cuss or say a bad word--I gotta put a $1 in a "cuss jar" that we put in the kitchen.  Needless to say, we got two of 'em--and they are both filled to capacity!  Between this past week when crazy a$$ co workers were acting a fool and crazy a$$ bosses were acting an even bigger fool, I did a lot of cussing and fussing!

Since the $1s were actually coming out of Shawn's pocket--he decided I wasn't learning my lesson.  So every time he hears me cuss or say "ni$$er"--he gets to punch me in the arm.  I got a low tolerance for pain, so I'm doing much better on the cussin'--but the word ni$$er is another story.  Do I say the word outside the house? NOOOOOOOOOO! Cause I don't want white folks like Dog the Bounty Hunter and Don Imus to think it's cool. Do I say it in casual conversation with my cousin Demond in New Orleans when we chat on the phone YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! 

And of course, Andrew is right there--listening to every word and learning er'rething he ain't posed to pick up on.

So the other day, Shawn and Andrew were reading the animal book and Andrew was sitting in his lap--while Shawn turned the pages and made all the sounds--it was so cute.  I wanted to give them their "daddy/son" time so I went to the kitchen to get ready for dinner.  I was in there 'bout 4 minutes when Shawn yelled out "Sheletta, come here now!"  And I mean he yelled. And he never calls me "Sheletta".  He calls me "honey" or "baby"--so when he called me by my slave name, I knew I was in trouble.

I tipped in the room and Andrew was looking at me like "Mommy, you're in trouble!"

Shawn asked me "What is he saying?"

I was like "I don't hear him saying anything!"

Shawn looked at Andrew and told him "Say it son."

Andrew grinned and said "Drigger."

My heart hit the floor. I tried to pretend I didn't understand what he was saying "I don't know honey--perhaps he's working on an animal sound!"

"No, he is saying ni$$er!  Did you say ni$$er around him?"

"I'm not sure," I tried to shuffle around the question, "I don't think so. I might have slipped up!"

Shawn knows I can't lie, so I just went ahead and told it on myself!

My husband didn't even bother to talk to me, "Hand me the phone." he demanded.

"Who are you calling?" I wanted to know.

"Andrew's social worker," he informed me, "I'm turning you in!"