I swear they curse

Some of our parents were probably hot-blooded angsty young people who cursed like anyone of us now, who perhaps loved Mcdonalds to bits, and clubbed themselves silly every weekend. I suppose most of us are likely parents some 10 years from now, which sets me thinking the type of parents we will end up being.

My mom epitomizes “prim and proper”. She’s every inch the indispensable, responsible mother who’s not quite your stepford wife, but close enough. Okay, sans the delectable bods and suggestive togs, plus a whole load of naggy DNA. With that, the least you’d expect is a profanity that escapes her mouth.

I was jolted outta bed this morning by an ominous presence that seemed far too haunting to ignore. I opened my eyes, and there she was, glaring piercingly at me. She was cross, cos’ it was eight. So awfully late I was. One of the rare times I felt so consumed and stupefied by the trepidation. The fear of being late for work.

“Fuck!” I exclaimed.
Took her no less than 2 seconds to summon a comeback.
“Fuck!” She reacted.
Holy shit. What did my prissy mom just say??!! Why the hell did she echo me? What does it mean when one says “fuck” and another answers with a “fuck”?

You would expect your grandma to be the priestess of decorum. The revered empress dowager. She was clearly immersed in a family game of mahjong, probably emptying her pockets out. Following a triumphant “pong” by an uncle, my bro and I heard a voice muttering “knn”, which sounded suspiciously like that of my grandma’s.
Holy shit. She just swore in one of the highest degrees of Hokkien vulgarity!

This is way cool. Parents, grandparents… mere mortals.