It was a week filled with the dulcet sounds of small children swearing.
From the “What the hell is that?” my sweet 2 year old dropped in a department store.
To the “Oh SHIT!” my son yelled when he spilled ketchup on himself.
Capped off by this sentence by a colleague’s daughter on the playground, in reference to a playmate’s slight: “She called me a FUCKER!”
While I not-so-subtly excused myself to laugh until I cried (small kids who swear are my kryptonite), he tried to quiet her down, stop her from using that word. It took a while. That’s a pretty satisfying word, and the effect it has on adults is even more satisfying.
Once he got his daughter calmed down, and called me out for laughing, he shared an even better story.
He was at an event, with a silent auction. One little boy was quite taken with a display, dragged his parents over to see the item.
“Look! A frickin’ elephant!”
The parents, predictably, panicked a little. They tried to get him to stop. (And who gets that excited about an elephant, anyways?)
But he kept saying it. And he seemed pretty proud. “It’s a frickin’ elephant.”
His parents start to get agitated. It’s clear they’re getting ready to take measures.
“But that’s what it says! A-F-R-I-C-A-N Elephant. A frickin’ elephant!”