When I was a pre-teen, way back in the 1970s, my mom bought me a paperback, that I think was the one pictured, called “Super-Cops: The True Story of the Cops Called Batman and Robin.” We both thought it was about Superheroes.
It turned out to be a tough-guy cop book, about mean-street police partners. They loved using the F-bomb.
After several chapters, I decided I should probably know what that meant, since they used it so often. (Remember, this was the 1970s, and I lived in a small town.) So I walked up to my mom, who was washing dishes at the time, and innocently asked her what it meant.
She was shocked, and asked me what I said. Her tone said I might be in trouble, but I repeated it anyway.
She picked up a bar of soap and shook it at me. She told me that if ever I said that word again, she would use it to wash out my mouth.
(Note to self: Never ask a parent what a word means while they are standing near a bar of soap!)
After I explained I really didn’t know it was a dirty word, she calmed a lot, and asked me where I heard it.
After I told her about the book, she confiscated it. Knowing how she always treated books, I could not picture her ever throwing one away, so I kept looking around the house for it for awhile after (I never found it).
It was a good book. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Anne Fisher-Ahlert 