This morning, as I'm cruising down the highway, I was surrounded by semis that kept me from seeing the signs directing me to the lane I needed until a split second before I realized I was in the wrong one. I zoomed across two lanes and saw a shiny BMW coming up in the lane I needed to be in. It was clear that I was about to drive off the road (which I briefly did) into the V between two major freeways, and that I needed to get in ahead of him, yet he screamed past me without even pretending he might slow down. Frustrated, as I maneuvered the wheel to keep my new car, not to mention my children, from being sucked into the ditch, I apparently allowed a series of expletives to escape my mouth. With the car back on the highway, my nerves calming, I hear Max, my five year old in the back seat, ask, "Mom? What's a f--k-wad?"
Up to this point my favorite "child saying swearwords" story happened when Sophie, now seven, was about two and a half. We were driving up to a Bible study I was in and she was excited about hanging out with her friends in the church nursery. She asked how long it would take and I responded, "Not long if this stupid truck would get out of my way." Sophie, who, like most kids, was prone to mispronouncing words, said "Stupid f--k?" For the rest of that car ride, and weeks to come, she would point to any truck we saw on the road and ask, "Is that a stupid f--k?" Eventually she stopped asking, and soon after that was able to correctly pronounce the word truck. I love this story because it's funny, and it's not my fault.
But this morning it's all on me. I explained to Max that it's a very mean word and that it's not okay for anyone, kids, teenagers or grownups, to say. I said I was sorry and that I never should have said it. I almost added in front of you, but I didn't. I said that if I ever hear him saying that word I will take away his Wii minutes for the day. But I could not stop laughing. I'm not sure how much of my do-as-I-say message was portrayed before he broke into giggles, too.
I don't know why I couldn't stop laughing. I should have been appalled. I should have been panicked that my innocent child is now going to become a foul-mouthed heathen. But it struck me as hilarious. Maybe it was his little voice saying those words. Or the fact that when he asked what it meant he had no idea it was such a terrible thing to say. Whatever the case, I laugh out loud every time I think about it.
It remains to be seen if Max will use his new vocabulary word in polite conversation. I half expect to get a phone call from his preschool teacher, Miss Connie. And I fully expect that Max will say it while talking to my father, who will look at me in horror. And when this happens, I will, as threatened, take away all of Max's Wii minutes for the entire f-ing day.
