What is it with little boys and their obsession with “naughty words”? Right now, Boys #2 and #3 have embraced this little “stage” with open arms. Their life’s goal (at least at ages 7 and 4) seems to be to see just how far they can push it before either:
a) their taste buds have been deadened by the taste of Dial soap; or
b) Mom and Dad hand them over to the next pirate ship that cruises through town.
And I know it really shouldn’t be cute when you ask your 7-year-old how school was today and he responds matter-of-factly with “Johnny was really pissed off today.” But, being the mature person I am, I have to admit that sometimes I have to work really hard to suppress a smile or stifle a giggle.
Happy F-ing Easter
We were sitting down to Easter dinner with my in-laws when Mother-in-Law came into the dining room, a conflicted look of horror and amusement on her face. While she was fixing the kids’ plates, one of the cousins said, “Grandma, Boy #3 said the F-word.” Poor unsuspecting Mother-in-Law innocently asked Boy #3 “What did you say?” Of course, she was expecting to hear the word “fart” or some other less scandalous term. Nope. Boy #3 obeyed his Grandma and belted out the F-word, the real F-word. Being the kind Grandma she is, she defended him to his horrified parents, saying, “Well, I asked him what he said, and he just told me!”
Too Much Phonemic Awareness
I’ve noticed that now the boys have gotten creative and started leaving out the last consonant sound in naughty words, just to see what happens. A kind of social experiment, if you will.
“Mom, is fu— a bad word?”
“No, but you still shouldn’t say it.”
“Why? I’m not saying the bad word.”
“Because it still sounds like you’re trying to say it.”
“But I’m not actually saying it.”
“Because I said so, then.”
They don’t really go for that answer either, but it’s all I can come up with.
Flipping “The Bird”
And of course, along with the “naughty words” comes their kissing cousin, the “naughty finger.” Again, the boys have done everything from pretend to have an “owie” they’re showing me, to putting up their ring finger or their pinky instead.
Boy #3, however, takes the grand prize for creativity in the naughty department. We were sitting at Applebee’s Saturday evening after baseball and soccer games. Grandma and Grandpa were there as well. It was all going so smoothly—but I should’ve realized it was going too smoothly.
The boys ordered their “usual,” chicken fingers and fries. And after being asked 78 times when the food was coming, I let out a big sigh of relief when I saw the servers arrive at our table with our meals. Yeah, I admit it, I let down my guard. I didn’t even see it coming.”
The server placed Boy #3’s basket in front of him and said, “Chicken fingers?”
Boy #3 looked at his three chicken fingers, grabbed the second one, held it up and said, “I got the middle finger!”
I quick looked to see if the server heard and the laugh escaping from his lips told me that he had.
What could I do? I just owned it and said, “I’m so proud.”