Especially on the subject of language, because I’m a wordsmith by trade, I’ve just assumed I’d be a freedom-of-speech type dude.

Then, during last night’s episode of “The Vampire Diaries” (yes, I admit this is one of my absolute favorite hour-long shows on television) my bubble burst in dramatic—and almost Puritanical—fashion.

In a nutshell, writers worked the word, “dick,” into the script four times over the course of the 60-minute show. As in, “Don’t be a dick,” or “You’re being a dick.” This is a phrase that I lob to my friends all the time (hey, we are from Long Island). It is not, however, something I think young children should be hearing their favorite prime-time vamps say.

If the show were on at 10 p.m., when most young kids are asleep, the curses wouldn’t have bugged me at all. But because the program is on at 8 p.m., when just about every 9-, 10-, and 11-year-old is up and watching television, Powergirl and I totally flipped out.

After I Tweeted and Facebooked about my ire, it hit me: I totally sounded like a parent, and an uncool one at that.

“Come on, guys,” I could almost hear L saying. “Everybody says it, and it’s not that bad.”

And on some level, it’s not. On another level, though, it’s horrible. I don’t care if everybody says the word, “dick.” I don’t even care if I say it myself. While my daughter (and subsequent children, for that matter) is still impressionable, while she’s still learning the attributes of good language, it’s not a word I want her to know.

In other words, just because language in general seems to be de-evolving these days doesn’t mean my kid has to contribute or embrace the new slang.

(As an aside, after hearing all of these vamps and werewolves say “dick” on primetime television, I couldn’t help but think about the 2006 Mike Judge film, “Idiocracy,” where a future President of the U.S. incorporates words like “shit” into his State of the Unions.)

I contemplated writing a letter to the CW about all of this, but that would make me even less cool (it also undoubtedly would do nothing). Instead, I’ll consider this a valuable lesson, and vow to be even more vigilant to monitor the language that L is exposed to when she’s old enough to copy it and make it her own.

Sure, she’s given me hickeys before. But tonight—probably because she’s teething something fierce—she bit down on my shoulder so hard, she actually drew blood.

To say the encounter took me aback would be an understatement. On one hand, I found it hysterically funny, and wanted to laugh at how crazy/freaky/weird our child is. On the other hand, I knew I couldn’t show her any sort of reaction that might encourage her to do it again, lest she take a chunk out of her mother or one of her grandparents.

So I ignored the bite completely. Until she tried to do it again. Then I said, “No” in a stern voice.

I’m not the best (read: most resolved) disciplinarian, but my response somehow managed to deter her from sucking my blood for the rest of the night. Let’s hope there are no repeat performances any time soon; I’d rather not raise an honorary Salvatore in this house.

My vampire is no Stefan Salvatore; instead, she’s L. Tonight, before bedtime, the little sucker decided it was high time to “turn me” into a vampire forever. So she took a chunk out of my neck. And shoulder. And clavicle.

By the time I got her to bed, I had a splotch of tooth marks all over my side. It looks like I’ve got some sort of weird skin disorder. Or a hickey from hell.

I can’t say didn’t encourage this behavior. Sure, I was trying to get the baby to sleep by shushing her stoically in her dark room. The truth, however, is that every time she sunk her tiny (but sharp!) teeth into my shoulder, I laughed out loud—partially because it tickled but also because it was just so damn cute.

Does this mean she’s going to start biting random people as a sign of affection? I hope not.

I also hope I remember not to take my shirt off at the gym on Tuesday; I get enough funny looks there as it is.