Wednesday, May 28, 2014

F-bomb, take two.

Do y'all remember a few years back when I taught little Liam how to swear? Okay, I didn't exactly teach him how to swear. I just introduced him to one especially choice word (thanks, Radiohead!) and he figured the rest out on his own.

But don't worry. Just because he's uttered a handful of four-letter words in his lifetime does not mean he has the mouth of a sailor. If it makes you feel any better, he usually whisper swears if anything. As in, "Mama, I am not going to say it but you know what I want to say right now." I nod like, yep I get it no need to go on, but he continues, always in a whisper. "Fuck. I really want to say fuck right now. But I won't. Because it's inappropriate."

He knows that language has power. 

I should probably mention I have no problem with swearing. I mean, sure, it can make people sound uneducated or crass, but it can also sound juuuuust right. Like there's no other word that could have so perfectly completed that sentence. Sometimes there's just no better way to get a point across.

Case in point. I was just about to drive my nephew Jack and his dog brother Charlie halfway to Louisville to meet my sister yesterday when I realized Charlie had dug one of my patio palms out of its container, dragged it across the backyard and tried to eat it. Since he had already managed to dig up our garden twice over the weekend (once chewing through the soaker hose Bill had so lovingly integrated) you can imagine that dog was on my last nerve. Suffice to say I had a few choice words to share with him.

A few minutes (and deep breaths) later when I went to buckle Finn into his car seat, he tried to share a moment of solidarity with me.

"Mama, that Charlie is a fucking poop."

I was stunned.

Sure I had just called Charlie a fucking lot of things but I was so not expecting anyone to be taking notes. And to hear that word come out of a three year old's mouth? Well, that's just not something you're ever prepared for...

"Oh, Finny. I really don't think you should say that word. I'm sorry I said it too. Let's just...not anymore."

"He's a fucking pee, Mama."

Yep. Just like we were filming a fucking movie. It was hard not to laugh and I certainly couldn't blame him or judge. He had obviously learned it from me. Kind of funny to think of any kid getting punished for's not like they pulled it out of thin air.


Tonight, when I tried to discretely fill Liam in on what happened, Finn played the whole scene over. Only this time, I had my camera...


Liam was practically in tears. He was DYING. Later when I told him I wanted to share the video with a friend he said, "That's the best idea I've heard all day. Well, that and Finn saying *in a whisper* fucking."

I only wish Finn would be as discreet as his big brother has been. I will be utterly shocked if that happens. But, it wouldn't be the first time this kid has surprised me. We'll work on it. In the meantime, I would like to issue a blanket apology for any inappropriate language that comes from my family. I guess we're passionate with our words.

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