The Swear Jar

September 9, 2015 at 11:15 am (The Easy Chair)

WTF?

WTF?

The unanimous reaction when we heard there was to be a swear-jar in the hallway?

“FUCK THAT!”

My almost-eighteen-year-old niece is the Marilyn Munster in a family expecting to raise Marilyn Manson. For some weird goddamn reason two normal, well-adjusted kids have grown up around their ne’er-do-well parents and uncle. Mizelle is consantly asking, “What did you do? They are so nice and well-behaved!”

Beats the fuck outta me.

Niecy is in no hurry to grow up. She refused to watch R-rated movies until she was seventeen, and then only when edited on TV. She’s into age-appropriate comics, and enjoys a good poop-joke as much as anybody, but she’s in no hurry to see the darker side of life. When she gets mad enough to swear, she will warn us that she’s mad enough to do so, and then say something like, “Oh… butt!”

It’s fuckin’ hilarious.

So as the adults go about their day, motherfuckin’ this and cocksuckin’ that, she keeps score. She will remind her parents of their cuss-bill, but she gives me a wide berth. She hath realized that when I’m in the middle of a obscenity-filled tirade, it may not be the best time to remind me that the meter is running. She catches me later.

“Um, Uncle Charlie, when you going to pay your swear jar bill? Dad paid his today.”

“How much did he owe?”

“Fifteen coins.”

“How many do I owe?”

“Five coins.”

“No shit? Is that all?”

“Um, six coins…”

As I stared at Little Haji, the give-a-penny, take-a-penny cup, I had a brainstorm. After two nights I had accumulated about one hundred pennies. I slipped them into my pocket, and waited. As the family sat around, watching TV and munching on popcorn, Rain came out of the bathroom. I winked at her. “Is it time?” she asked me.

“Baby, it is time.”

“All right, motherfuckers, here we go!” That got everybody looking.

The six pennies thunked to the bottom of the jar. “There, goddammit!” I dropped another penny. Plunk! “If I’m going to be charged for swearing,” Plunk! “I’m gonna get my motherfucking money’s worth!” Plunk!

A few more sons-of-biotches, goddamns, etc… Plunk!Plunk!Plunk! and I slowed down. When I got to a few pennies left, I dumped the handful, and asked, “Will that take care of me for a day or two?”

“Maybe a week,” my niece laughed.

I pulled out one last penny, held it to the light, and said, “One more for the road.” I removed my upper dentures for effect, and said, “F-f-f-f-foooooey!” Replaced my teeth, dropped my imaginary microphone and headed offstage to my room. In the process I stepped on the dog’s tail. “Move your stupid fucking tail when I’m walking, dog!”

Then I looked at Niecy and asked, “We’re good, right?”

Maybe you’ll be covered through tomorrow…”

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