I learned six things from my two weeks of attempted non-swearing. #1. Self-control is not my strong point. #2. I swear quite a bit. Not horribly, just conversationally. A damn here, a hell there, with sh*t as my go-to word. When I’m sewing, driving, or discovering my dog pooping on my carpet, I use the f-bomb. (Sister Janet, if you’re reading this — I’m sorry I’ve failed you.)…
