I took a walk this afternoon, because the sun was shining, and I wanted to escape impending cabin fever. Also, because my back hurt from shoveling snow, and I thought a jaunt around town would alleviate aches and pains. Along the way, I helped a woman with a walker get across an icy sidewalk that hadn't been properly cleared. Good deed done. Later, on Locust Street, I was walking behind a young woman of about 20 and a boy I assumed to be her son, who appeared to be about five. The kid was lagging a bit, as kids do, but "Mom" wasn't pleased and told him, "I'm not gonna keep f**kin' stoppin' dude. You're gonna walk. You're gonna shut the hell up." She didn't say it angrily, just matter-of-factly, in a normal, conversational tone. I hadn't noticed the kid saying anything. I wondered how many times he must have heard similar language at home at his young age for some small infraction, real or perceived. And we wonder where kids ge...