I will never forget the first time I said God's name in vain. I was in second grade and was using the bathroom. I accidentally peed on my pants and uttered goddamnit. I froze in fear. I thought God was going to strike me down that very moment. The rest of the day I worried and fretted. What bad omen would appear? That's a terrible thing for a child to have to go through.
Growing up, my father and Charlie always cussed like sailors. I can distinctly remember my father on a ladder as he painted a ceiling in our house. Charlie was painting some door trim right under him.
"Goddamnit!" Charlie exclaimed to dad. "You just got paint all over my shirt."
"Daddy?" I said innocently as I stood in the doorway. "Charlie's going to go to hell."
I can remember it as if it happened yesterday.
"No he's not," dad replied, consoling me. "Grown people can cuss. Don't you worry about that."
I can remember thinking of the years I would have to wait before I could use certain words without spending eternity in damnation. I still cringe today when I write God's name in vain on my blog or utter it in anger or exasperation.