In my attempt to get my daughters to clean up their act, I am quite unfortunate

Last fall I unilaterally, arbitrarily and capriciously forbade my daughters from using the word "suck" in my presence. I was inspired in part by Oprah's announcement that she was banning the word "bitch" on her new network.

I'd grown sick of hearing them use the word so casually and frequently. I remembered "suck" as the province of sniggering junior high school boys, from the days when I was one myself. If you said it, you might get your ears cuffed by an adult who didn't know for certain whether it was dirty but decided not to take a chance. (In that era, adults were permitted to cuff the ears of any child who offended for any reason, no questions asked. It takes a village to raise a child, you know.)

"Suck" certainly wasn't a word to be used in what was then called "polite conversation." There's no such thing as polite conversation anymore, I suppose. More's the pity, if you ask me.

Yes, I'm aware I'm channeling my inner Andy Rooney here, and I admit I embrace him more with each passing year.

The straw that broke the camel's back was hearing my daughters say, "It sucks to suck," which offended me not just in its crudity but in its clumsy syntax. I can live with a certain amount of vulgarity, but please let us not abuse the king's English, motherf---er.

I will confess to some old-fashioned sexism here. This sort of thing offends me more coming from my daughters than from my sons. There, I said it. I come from a time when a certain crudity was expected, tolerated and even encouraged from boys, but we expected better from girls. Boys will be boys, on the one hand. Sugar and spice and everything nice, on the other. I still believe girls should be "nicer" and more refined than boys. Having observed many in one of their natural habitats -- cruising a mall, say -- I realize that's a hopelessly idealized and romanticized view of females. Yet still I cling to it.

I understand that elimination of all gender-based distinctions is all the rage these days. In many important respects, I'm on board with that trend. I had no quarrel with the woman who drew such attention for painting her little boy's toenails pink. Go ahead, paint 'em. By all means, let your daughter go out for the football team, rather than the cheerleader squad. Cripes, if we could find one in Nebraska who could get the ball 35 yards down the field and lead an offense to more than 10 points a game, we'd happily make her the Huskers' quarterback.

Even then, though, I'd expect her to show a little decorum in the huddle, and for the players around her to carefully watch their language in her presence -- because when I was a lad, guys cleaned up their acts, at least superficially, when girls were around. We knew -- or at least assumed -- they didn't appreciate our usual crudeness and, once we realized it was important what they thought of us, that made a difference in how we behaved.

And thus were the males of the species tamed and made more presentable. Now that girls are down there in the muck with boys ... well, how can this not make for a cruder society?

Yes, Andy Rooney again. I need to wrap this up before I start scowling, wagging my bushy eyebrows and ranting about "the so-called music" these kids listen to these days.

Enough armchair sociology. How is my ban on that one little word going, you may wonder. Well, when I announced it at the dinner table last fall, my two teenage daughters gave me that look that only teenage girls can give, and only to their fathers. It's that "old man, what rock did you crawl out from under" look. Of course, my wife backed me, as part of that pact parents have that in the presence of your children, you always back each other; it's not until later, in private, that you can say, "What the hell were you thinking there, honey?"

My daughters asked me for an acceptable alternative to "suck." I suggested the word "unfortunate" could be used in many contexts. Or, for extra emphasis, "That's quite unfortunate."

So, they humored me, though you'd be amazed at how sarcastic an innocuous phrase such as "that is unfortunate" can sound when uttered by an eye-rolling teenager.

My youngest daughter ultimately got me to agree she could say "suck" once a day, knowing fully well I'd lose count. Once that happened, we all knew the jig was up, though I'm claiming partial victory by at least making them think a bit about the words they use and the message they send.

I wish Oprah more luck with her "bitch" ban.

Meantime, as atonement for any sexism, I think I'll go paint my toenails pink.