lezbemoms

Raising a Blended Family

Oh, f*ck!

on November 8, 2014

I should be studying, but why study when you can reminisce about your toddler’s potty mouth instead?

Yes, sadly you read that correctly. My son has acquired Mommy’s history of using a certain four-letter word whenever something unexpectedly bad happens. I didn’t think he was listening, or watching, or acquiring… But apparently he was because boy, did he let one fly the other day.

We were at daycare (that’s just so great, isn’t it?). I had just arrived to pick him up and in typical him-fashion, he excitedly ran to greet me at the gate, then ran pell-mell in the opposite direction (Why? Ask him. I have no clue but he does it every day. At least he acts excited to see me first.). As he was running (and also in typical him-fashion: my kid, the klutz) he tripped over a root and down he went. And, at that exact same time, one of those strange silences happened on the playground…. The ones where all of a sudden, just for a second, the swings stop screeching, the birds stop chirping, there isn’t any nearby traffic, conversation stops and everybody takes a collective breath in at the exact same time, resulting in a silence so profound you could hear a pin drop or an ant sneeze…. Or, in this case, you could hear my two-year-old exclaim, clear as day, “oh, FUCK” as his derrier hit the ground after he tripped.

And I, his mother, just stood completely speechless, mouth hanging open, eyes wide, without a corrective word of wisdom or parental redirection to bestow whatsoever. Completely speechless. (Although, I wanted to let loose with an oh, fuck myself but I was pretty sure that wouldn’t have been appropriate).

His daycare lady turned and looked at me with the same shocked, deer-in-the-headlights face, and tentatively asked, “Did he just say…?”

I told her no, surely not, couldn’t have been, he must have been mumbling under his breath about TRUCKS or DUCKS or something. She didn’t seem convinced but we didn’t stick around to argue about it. I grabbed my little cursing potty-mouth and whisked him out of there as fast as I could manage, all the while thinking to myself oh fuck oh fuck oh FUCK.

Fuck, indeed. I taught my son to curse! Guess it’s time for a swear jar around here!

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6 responses to “Oh, f*ck!

  1. butchcountry67 says:

    sorry but I had to laugh, I can remember when our son ran around saying shit as a toddler

  2. meridith says:

    we’re stuck with “stupid hamburger booty butt”. I’d almost prefer fuck.

  3. pepibebe says:

    My little god-daughter (around the age of 2), used to use the word ‘duck’ but with the exact emphasis and timing for an ‘appropriate’ usage of the word ‘fuck’ – e.g if she drove her little trike into an object and got stuck etc. It was rather hilarious.

  4. Lindsay says:

    oh, gosh! I have a story very similar to this about my little sister when she was around the same age. At the time, my mom was MORTIFIED. But now we all tell the story and laugh!

    I have a terrible potty mouth and need to clean it up, stat!

  5. staceymom says:

    Don’t worry, we all do it. I never swore but then I had 3 kids and I can’t help it sometimes. They say swearing helps relieve stress. I always tell my kids that it’s not good to use that language and I’m trying to stop. We’re all only human. šŸ™‚

  6. Once I was at our 4th of July parade with my nephew who was about 3 or 4 at the time. There were hoards of people everywhere and we were walking down the sidewalk when he yelled out “Look at the big pile of dog shit!” I was mortified!

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