F*#% it

I was once criticized by a fellow firefighter for wearing lipstick at work. Now, if I were a guy wearing Bonne Belle lispsmacker gloss I would understand the commotion but I'm female and I've worn lipstick since I was old enough to wear make-up. Just because I am in a male-dominated industry doesn't mean I am ready to give up my feminine ways to fit in with the guys. In fact, I'll do stuff on purpose to bug the guys because I'm mean that way. ;)

I have pink Martha Stewart Egyptian cotton bedsheets on my bunk and bring in fresh-cut daisies for the kitchen table. I leave Oprah magazines lying around and make sure the tv is on when there is a chick flick playing like Beaches or Dirty Dancing. I'll pop in Pat Benetar or Celine Dion in the CD player in the workout room.... it's so funny watching the guys trying to pump iron while Celine is hitting her high notes.

But what I didn't realize is that it works both ways... I brought my feminine touch to work but somehow took some 'maleness' back home. I am ashamed to admit that somewhere along the way, through the science of osmosis, I developed a real locker room potty mouth. I have caught myself more than once using four-letter words in front of the little ones. This of course doesn't impress my very proper English husband.

Just this morning I heard Jacob say' F*#% it' oh so quietly.... as if he was testing the power of those words....It's funny how instinctively he knows it's not something you should be caught saying. I am going to be more conscientious about my language because it's not ladylike to swear. The Queen would not be amused.