When I was growing up, none of my family swore. The only exception to that rule happened maybe twice a year when I would hear--DAMNIT!!! A hammer usually preceded it on a finger or something similar. I first used that word at the tender age of five. I had been given a dog much against my parent’s wishes, and I loved her dearly. However, that particular Easter Day, she became a damnit dog for the day. I had been thrilled with my Easter basket that morning. I received no candy other than at Easter and Christmas, so it was a very big deal indeed. When I returned from church that ill-fated morning...
