Pretty Little Pottymouth

I'm  curser. When I'm out with my adult friends I could make a hardcore sailor blush within three minutes. I minimize my potty mouth around the kids, but I readily admit that sometimes I fuck up. In order to cover my arse, I have taught my children the golden rule to swearing:

Swears are adult words. One earns the right to swear by reaching the wonderful age of 18.

For the most part, my kids get it. Xavier does not swear, but does ask from time to time if certain words are adult words or accessible to him: like crap, suck, etc. I tell him it totally depends upon the context. If you want to say this sucks, I'm ok with that. However, yelling "You suck"! at the computer (or the G-rents) is not acceptable.

Ashe never swears. When he is upset, he opts for the simple use of volume, and screams so loudly that it is a wonder we have not yet used our savings to purchase new windows.

Soren, on the other hand, is still learning. And once in awhile, I find myself doing three things at once;

• slamming my head against the wall for being an idiot and swearing once too many times for Soren to parrot back what I say
• Informing Soren that, while his use of verbal insults has been used in the proper context, he is still not old enough to use said curse word for another 15 years
• laughing so hard at his little boy voice pronouncing "fuck" so perfectly, that I begin to cry

 

 



A couple of weeks ago our kitten Bax went missing, as she sometimes does. She refuses to meow when she is stuck somewhere, instead believing that at some point in time, her awesome family will find her. Either that, or she is just thrilled in her little feline way, of finding a good spot where she can hide from the boys antics for a few hours.

When the kids realize that Bax really is missing, everything stops and all three boys go a hunting. Up and down three flights of stairs they yell "BAX! OH BAAAX! WHERE ARE YOU??!" until they open up a closet door and find her hiding behind the Christmas tree, purring away.

This time, I was sitting on the couch with J, reading a book, while the boys were hunting for their feline companion. Up and down the stairs, up and down. I wasn't paying them much mind until I heard this little voice ask in exasperation "Where is that fucking cat?!"
"Soren!" Xavier gasps. "You can't SAY stuff like that!"
"Why not? Mom says it all the time."

I slowly lifted my head up from the kindle and sheepishly peeked over at J. Who was, of course, giving me the look of death.


My fault.



Not too long after, while the older boys were in school, I was sitting on the recliner catching up on the news while Soren played with his plushies quietly on the floor beside me. In each hand he held a Mario and a Luigi doll, and was pretending to make them talk to one another. This is fairly typical in our house so I wasn't paying too much mind to the actual conversation until it was too late.

Mario: Oh Luigi, what shall we do today?
Luigi: I don't know Mario. Hey let's check on Princess Peach
Mario: OK... (silence for a moment)
Luigi: Hey?! Where is Princess Peach?! Was she kidnapped again?
Mario: What the fuck...?


"SOREN!"
Looking up with an Oh shit look: "Yeah mom?"
"What did you just say?!"
"Ummmm... nothing. I wasn't talking."
"I just heard you."
"Oh no, mommy, that wasn't me. That was Mario!"

Ahh yes, that foul mouthed Mario, who just realized that his girlfriend has been kidnapped yet again by that asshole Bowser. Of course it was him and not perfect little Soren.


Yup.


And then there was the most recent incident.

Friday afternoon my mom dropped the boys off at home after a week of fun at her house. One of the first things Soren told me was the Ashe had insisted that he said a bad word, but he promised he didn't.

"Oh yeah" I say?
"Yeah Mommy. Ashe said I said shit, but I didn't."
"Well I'm glad you didn't say that word", I reply, trying very hard to keep a serious face to match his own.
"Nope, I didn't say shit. Ashe is a liar. I was mad that he said I said shit. Cause I can't say shit until I'm 18. Right?"
"Right" I respond, losing the war of the straight face. "And do you remember why you can't say those kid of words until you're 18"?
"Because they are grown up words. And I will be a grown up at 18."
"Correct."
Soren tilts his head to the side, considering his next words carefully. "Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"Can I say shit when I'm 17?"
"No, honey. Not until you're 18."
"Dammit."




I can't wait until these kids have kids of their own.