The other day, Daddy Mac, Sam and I were driving along when Sam started giggling about knowing the “F” word. Daddy Mac and I glanced at each other, WTF? Really? In his protected world? In the first grade? Sheiza, was it on the bus? Where did someone drop the F bomb so obviously that it is now part of his vocabulary? This went on for a while, the dance to figure out what he knows about the F word without revealing what we know about the F word. You know what I’m saying’? Bet you do! Ha! I guess this is just a window into what the teenage years will bring!
After a while, Sam asked, “Can I just say it?”
Daddy Mac and I looked nervously at each other, finally nodding yes.
“It’s like a toot!” he exclaimed and then whispered, “Fart!” I think it was the first time in his life that he actually whispered.
The relief was palpable. Phew, Nellie! Trying not to guffaw, we told him that was not a good word to say.
So today he asked if he could say the “S” word. Oh no, not again! Then again, nothing could be worse than the F word unless it is the C word. Anyway, I digress. Daddy Mac and I looked at each other, less nervously than before, but still wondering once again – WTF?
“You know, it starts with ‘Bonjour!'” It knew right away what he meant. I sighed in relief, trying not to belly laugh. He wanted to say “Bonjour, Stupid” just like Uncle Feather. In case you are wondering who the heck Uncle Feather is, he is the myna bird who belongs to the character Fudge in Superfudge. That’s the Judy Blume book we’ve been reading at night. Good ole Judy Blume to the rescue!
“No, we don’t say that S word here. For us the S word is SILLY!”
And from the back seat we heard over and over again, “Bonjour, Silly!” followed by peals of laughter.
Let’s keep it silly as long as we can!
LibbY