Al Drops The F- Bomb

Al has been attending The Boys and Girls Club of America (Okie style) for a while now. Besides being the token white kid, he's also about as big as an earring. (a stud, not a dangle.)
He's been workin' hard at makin' a name for himself with the ladies, and doing the best he can to hold his own with the rest.
Aparently there was a "Scooter Incident" today, that escalated to, well, Al's need for the use of a certain expletive he would not have, under normal circumstances chosen to use.
He claims.
When I arrived at the facility to collect him, no less than twelve little brown faces rushed me with the news of Al's unfortunate choice in words. (Nonspecifically)
Deer in headlights moment here. Do I act appauled, do I laugh...no, don't laugh, do I ...what in the hell do I do? Fuck!
The staff member who broke down the incident assured me Al was one of his best kids (what the...) and that Al took his punishment like a man.
Punishment? What punishment? We are Unitarian, we don't believe in...Oh, no wait that's something else entirely. Or is it?
The punishment for cussing was forty five push-ups, to which the staff member informed me Al did an entire half. Not half of forty five, but half of one push-up. It was the best half push-up he says he's ever seen though.
I'm dying here. Part of me wants to file charges against the punk ass "Staff Member", and part of me wants to throw my arms around his neck and hug the F-bomb out of him.

In the car on the way home, Al confides in me, through his obvious embarrassment, that he had to do FORTY FIVE push-ups for saying the F-word.
"Forty five huh Al, man that must've been hard?"
"Yeah, I nearly passed out!"
"Are you going to drop the F-bomb again?"
..."Not at the Boys and Girls Club."
(It's going to be a long summer.)