Well, the f-word is his favorite cuss word.
I don’t know if you’ve sat in a high school parking lot with the window rolled down lately. It’s not just him.
We talk about language a good bit. He’s a pretty good kid otherwise and I don’t get too worked up about it.
If the word had never parted my lips maybe it would be different.
His sister can cuss him under the table. She’s 19 now. We tell her princesses ought not be talking like that.
If the worst they do is cuss I’ll be okay. One of my son’s classmates comes home drinking. His Mother at her wit’s end.

“Killing tomorrow’s trophies today.”

On the distance I like to walk to my stands:
“The first 100 yards is also the last 100 yards.”