Learning About the F-Bomb
Growing up in rural Indiana, things were a little murky
Growing up in Vincennes, Indiana, I never heard anyone drop the f-bomb. Not once. But I did see it—spray-painted on the backs of road signs.
One day, while riding bikes, my friends and I stopped at an intersection. As kids do, we drifted closer to the stop sign—and there it was, boldly scrawled across the metal on the back side…
The dreaded word. The f-bomb.
Big deal
But I wasn’t impressed. In fact, I was certain the graffiti artist had made a mistake. I turned to my friends and with complete confidence, I said:
“That can’t be a curse word. That’s my mother’s maiden name.”
Her maiden name was Funk.
Why spelling is important!
What’s a letter or two among pals?
Of course, I eventually learned better. The f-bomb has been around far longer than my childhood confusion. In fact, one of its earliest recorded appearances is that of a man called “Roger Fuckebythenavele,” noted in a 1310 English court document. I can only imagine the teasing he endured. “Roger—and what’s up with yer navel?”
As for the word itself, it likely comes from a Germanic root meaning “to hit.”
But I doubt I’ll encounter it in my Duolingo German classes. If it pops up, I promise I’ll share.
Personally, I’ve always loved words—their histories, their quirks, their surprises. Still, I won’t blame you if this is one you’d rather not say out loud.
Mystery Mondays
My guest on Monday, April 13 at 7 pm ET at Joanna’s Readers (https://www.facebook.com/groups/1602372550058785) will be Linda Reilly. She’ll be sharing her new book, Between a Roquefort and a Hard Place (Grilled Cheese Mystery #7), releasing April 21.
Until then…keep learning and keep the faith! Love ya! Joanna
I was so naive and sheltered that in elementary school, I thought the "f word" was fart!