Cuss Words

When I was a kid I spent most of my days running and playing in the woods behind my house.

I could, would, and did stay in those woods for hours.

I also loved a good book. One of my favorites was The Three Musketeers.
I didn't have a lot of friends at that time, but the story of such endearing and lasting friendships touched me.

I practiced my sword many days in those woods, I probably had slain every tree in a few miles radius.
I had just been punished for my recent watermelon caper.
I didn't tell you that story?

 Alright, so next time I am going to tell you how a dog snitched on me in the watermelon caper. Tonight I am going to tell about and the first and last time I cussed at my daddy.
I had a few shows that I liked on television series like Star Trek and Buck Rogers in the 25th century.
One day I found out that coming to television was something truly worth watching. The timeless story of The Three Musketeers.
Now, in my household opportunities to watch television were few and far between.

We had two religious events outside of our house each week, at least one at our house and on those days no television.
I knew that if a show was on one of those nights I was not going to see it. I didn't complain about that. There was no point complaining anyway, that was like complaining about the sun being in the sky.
As a result, I rarely got excited about anything that was in the T.V. guide.
I knew from personal experience that playing sick wasn't wise.
So when I discovered that the movie was coming on, that Saturday.
I got excited. Very excited.
That Saturday I was snuggled into the carpet ready for my show.
Suddenly my Father says in that, Clint Eastwood, Morgan Freeman voice. "Everybody get dressed we're going to town."
The hell are we going to town for?" I  wondered.  Town held no appeal for me at the best of times. 

I really didn't want to go that day.

My Father was not the type of man that you questioned. 

Throwing on my husky jeans a generic polo I thought, about how I didn't ask for much. 

I did whatever my parents asked and I hadn't poached watermelons in months!

My siblings and I hustled into my family's Caprice Classic.

We hadn't gotten far when my dad asked the car as a whole car; "Is everybody happy back there?"

My brother and sister sensibility replied yes, not me, I said, "No!" with all the venom and bass I could generate.

My father adjusted his rearview mirror so that he was looking directly at me.

"I said is everybody happy back there?"

His tone remained even but I knew he was angry.

I matched his anger. "And I said NO!" He didn't seem to be getting my point so I needed to impress upon him how much this meant to me, so I decided to give him the few cuss words I knew. I had no skill at cussing at the time so I just gave him my best three.

 "Shit, Damn, Ass!"

 In case he hadn't heard me the first time I repeated it, again and again, getting louder each time. "SHIT, DAMN, ASS!"

As my curses reached their loudest my father calmly pulled to the side of the road and beat the shit out of my damn ass. That whipping made me not want to ever watch the three musketeers, and I have not since.

No matter how many versions have come out.