Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, FUCK! inspired by 4 weddings and a funeral

My life could be more manageable and tolerable If I had complete freedom to say FUCK! all the time without offending or teaching my children extremely bad habits. I have tried alternatives such as duck but strangely it doesn’t have the same effect.

At the usual rush to get out of the door this morning, I’m sure I would have been less grumpy and intolerant fighting the clock all the time if I could have let out a stream of fuck utterances.

Likewise when I got home this evening and found out from my daughter that the homework she and I had been slaving over for the past few days and weeks had been destroyed in a roman battle at school today. Oh how great that all the precise measurements that the teacher had asked us to follow and that my daughter so diligently obeyed were not checked on the day it was handed in. Of course it is far better to get some children from a higher year group to come in and judge the home-work. “That shield should be put in the bin” one older pupil said to my daughter about her shield project. So did she enjoy her day about the Romans? No. Has she learnt anything, yes – how to pick yourself up from the floor, dust yourself down and carry on. Life is like that, which is why saying FUCK occasionally is such a good but naughty antidote.

BTW, I drafted this post last night but when tried to publish the internet connection gave out – double fuck! at least Unicef get another 1 pound in the pot in offline fees from me.

Better not teach her that lesson though. She’ll find that out herself at secondary school.

I am blogging every day for Unicef, If you can spare a bob, please visit my page on Unicef’s site.

Thanks for reading.


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