Time to clean up my act

                It’s a pivotal moment for your favorite team. The tension mounts, the drama builds, the moment is electric.

                And then, just like that, your team blows it.

                You jump up and scream, “WHAT THE ….!” But in a rare feat of restraint, you actually stop yourself from dropping the unholiest of swear words.

                The only problem: Your two-year-old son finishes the expression for you.

                Oops.

                Such was the case this afternoon, as my beloved Bulls fell flat once again, leaving me in sports-world anguish. My emotions got the best of me, and I couldn’t help but voice my displeasure.

                I should have considered my audience.

                My boy is speaking more and more. He’s putting more complex sentences together. It’s really a joy to watch to hear.

                But that also means he’s picking up more social cues from me, and I can’t get away with some of the same things I used to. The truth is, I should have been getting my act together a lot sooner.

                The absolute last thing you want to happen, is for the entire family to be at a more serious function, and for your child to steal the show by interjecting a mouthful of filth—the same filth he learned from you. Suddenly, your child is the “bad influence”, the child that other parents don’t want their kids to be around. But it’s not your child’s fault. It’s yours.

                So I’ve found something I need to work on in my house. No more potty-mouth. No more swearing like a sailor. It’s time to clean up my act.

                For f@&king real.