How did specific words become bad? I can think of three alternative words that can be used for poop and only one is considered profanity. Not that I am especially condoning or condemning its usage — I just can’t help but wonder why it is bad.

“Mrs. Duncan. Logan said the c-word!” The little girl’s eyes reflected great concern for her fellow man and the plight of society as I frantically ran words through my head. “He said CRAP!”

Whew. OK.

I mean, there wasn’t much I could say. He got the word from me, and I’ve never considered it a bad word. In fact — and other than taking the Lord’s name in vain which disrespects God and those who love Him — I have often wondered how the bad word selection process occurred.

How did specific words become bad? I can think of three alternative words that can be used for poop and only one is considered profanity. Not that I am especially condoning or condemning its usage — I just can’t help but wonder why it is bad.

Google offers many resources on the topic that all basically come to the same conclusion in one way or another — there are certain words that are just socially unacceptable.

Some words are full-on profanity. I don’t have to write them — you know them. You might say them. My husband probably did when he was fixing the dishwasher for the third time in a week while on his back in a puddle of dish water and touched an electric wire.

Other words straddle the fence — and opinions of them vary. I will readily admit that I am not one to worry about usage of most of these words because I just don’t find them offensive. To me, they are just words.

Fart or toot? Either way — it stinks.

Crap or poop? All that matters to me, is if it happens where it is supposed to. Especially if it’s my dog.

Stupid or silly? This is one where I learned a valuable parenting lesson.

Connor once overheard the word stupid right when his vocabulary was branching out from words like mommy, daddy, and the still-popular “no”. He looked up at me and formed his mouth into the shape of it like he was trying a new food.

“Too-pid.”

I laughed at his mispronunciation and moved on. But then it became his favorite word.

The guy in front of us at Walmart was stupid.

The lady at the driver’s license bureau was stupid.

Grandma was stupid.

Everything was stupid.

Connor had no idea that he was throwing insults around like ticker tape at a parade — he was three and for some reason he thought it was fun to say. To fix it, we told him it was a bad word.

When the dog walked by and I saw his lips forming the word, I stopped him.

“Stupid is a bad word.”

And then that became a problem all its own. When our preacher declared a rebellious people of the Bible stupid — Connor loudly rivaled the pulpit from the middle of the fourth pew.

“BAD WORD! BAD WORD!”

And the righteous shall be dragged into the nursery with thy mother’s hand over thy’s mouth.

Until Connor started policing it, I had no idea how often the word stupid is used. Kind of like the Spidey sense (Spiderman’s hairs raise when crime is near) I developed a stupid sense — I could feel when it was coming and quickly jumped in to stop it.

Friend: That is so stuuuu-

Me: Silly! That is so silly!

Before my friends had a stupid intervention with me, I eventually realized the whole thing was silly and to just let the kid get through the phase. Eventually it went away as do most things I overthink.

Now Connor is almost 12 years old, and he knows he shouldn’t call people stupid because it is mean (although he does not stand on the same moral ground when it comes to his little brother). For the rest, I just figure it is an individual parenting decision.

You say potāto — I say potăto. It really doesn’t matter to me. I will still put cheese on it and eat it with some sour cream and bacon.

And what you say after stepping on a Lego in the living room at midnight?

That’s your business.