|“Sh%&!”, I exclaimed, one day after dropping something on my foot in Walmart. Kyllian was quick to point out my naughtiness. Over and over and over again.
“Mommy, you shouldn’t say sh%&. Sh%& is a bad word. It isn’t nice to say sh%&. Instead of sh%& you should say Tarter Sauce because sh%& is a bad word. Don’t say sh%& anymore. Sh%& isn’t nice to say.”
“Okay, Kyllian,” I responded while half the store looked at us in amazement. “I won’t say that anymore but you shouldn’t say it either.”
“But, Mommy,” he replied, “I didn’t say sh%&. You said sh%& and that’s bad!”
This reminds me of a game one of my friends invented when we were in college: In a public place, you say to your companion, "Did you just say 'penis'?" (It doesn't matter if he did say "penis", said something that sounds like it, said something completely different, or hadn't spoken for the past hour--this is how you start the game.) Your companion says, slightly louder, "No, I didn't say 'penis'; you're the one who said 'penis'." You say, a little louder than that, "I did not say 'penis'; I distinctly heard YOU say 'penis'!" And so on. First person to be too embarrassed to say it louder is the loser.
I hadn't thought of this game in a long time until we went to a reunion of our college social club last weekend. Another friend had brought her 4-year-old daughter, who during lunch announced in a slightly-too-loud voice, "Mmmm, I just love peanuts!" Her mom whipped around from another conversation to say to the inventor of the above game, "DON'T. START."
My son has done very few really embarrassing things so far...except to request "the story of The Three Ladies and the Boss" in public places; that's the plot of the movie 9 to 5
, of which he happened to see a few minutes on TV that so intrigued him that he demanded the whole story. He thinks it is a folktale akin to "The Three Bears". Imagine the looks I get when people on a crowded bus overhear me telling my sweet little child a tale of stealing a dead body from a hospital!