We have a rule in our house that you can't curse until you're twenty-one.
You can drive at sixteen, drink at nineteen and swear and vote at twenty-one. That's just the way things roll around here.
And yes, I did make up this rule when I swore once and was good and ready to swear again until my young children reminded me that I had told them that swearing was illegal.
Really? I thought at the time, I said that?
But the rule has stuck.
Tonight as I was cooking dinner I managed to burn a hole right through the oven mitt I was using and I scorched my hand.
Yes, I admit that while I was rushing to put my hand under cold running water a few choice words may have escaped my lips.
My daughters were upstairs doing homework and were oblivious.
My son, who should have been upstairs doing homework but wasn't, came to investigate.
'What did you do?' he asked.
I filled him in.
'If I burn my hand, can I say what you just said?' he wanted to know.
'Yes,' I replied. 'If you are making dinner for the entire family and burn your hand badly enough that you have to throw out the oven mitt that was supposed to be protecting you, and if it's bad enough that you're thinking about driving yourself to the hospital then yes, you may say a few four letter words.'
'Cool,' he replied and sauntered away.
My son thinks that it's worth getting a second degree burn just so he can swear in front of me without getting a lecture?
I guess I'm stricter than I thought.