My army brats are 22 and 24 years old and they turned out just fine. They know that there’s a time and a place.
My son is a tower climber in an all-male environment and yes, they swear.
Two weeks ago, my son and his buddy climber had three pieces of safety equipment fail. They fell together for 40 feet. One cable gave just enough drag that they hit hard and got the breath knocked out of them, but nothing broke.
Yes. They cussed.
Yes. My son’s climbing buddy jokingly asked for a crowbar to dig his (testicles) out of his throat.
I’ve been married to a soldier for a quarter of a century. I was raised with rough-necks, miners, hunters, and cops.
Good men, all. No. GREAT men.
My (grown) kids well understand discretion and self control. My daughter can work her management job professionally, conduct herself in court, and do a radio spot smoothly. She can also rip a man in half with her tongue if he deserves it. Saved her from being raped once.
My son can sit with an old woman for an hour and keep her warm while waiting for her ride without offending her. He can also walk into a gang-run bar, find the man on the verge of suicide and help him.
Sorry if your kids had too little discernment to understand that ‘there is a time and a place for everything’. And sometimes there’s a time to talk rough.
That’s great, but the time to talk rough is not in a public speech in a political campaign which no doubt has children in the audience. That’s just about the absolute worst time to do it.