As I drove to the gym, a semi-truck kept pace in the lane next to us.
“Big f**k!” Daniel declared excitedly, pointing and flapping.
I did a double take. Did he really just say that? “Yeah, big truck.” I said, emphasising the t.
“Big f**k, big f**k!”
I held it in as much as I could, but some laughter managed to escape me. I certainly didn’t want to encourage foul language, but at the same time, it was rather hilarious hearing the f-word so innocently coming out of a 20 month old child’s mouth.
“Big f**k in the tunnel!” Daniel told me with glee the other day, driving one of his toy trucks under his wooden toy railway bridge.
Yesterday we went to Fantastic Furniture to get a desk chair. Daniel wanted to sit in every chair and on every couch they had. Hannah wanted to look at the bunk beds.
One bunk bed in particular caught the eye of both kids.
“BIG F**K BED!!!!!!!!” Daniel yelled loudly with a giant smile across his face. He ran over to the bed and climbed on the bottom bunk. He loves beds as much as he loves trucks. “BIG BOUNCY F**K BED!!!!”
Let’s just say I’m glad I was the only customer in the shop at that time, or I would have some serious explaining to do.
The rudeness doesn’t just cover trucks though. It also extends to socks. He can say sock, he’s said it many times before, but the other day he suddenly started saying cock instead.
There are no socks Daniel likes better than his dinosaur socks. He has about 3 pairs. In addition to trucks and bouncy beds, Daniel also loves dinosaurs.
“DINOSAUR COCK!!!!!” Daniel announced happily when I sat him down to put his socks on. I couldn’t help myself. Despite my best efforts not to, I laughed. Out loud. Which of course egged him on. “DINOSAUR COCK, DINOSAUR COCK!” He said, clearly pleased with himself. “I have dinosaur cocks.”
Note to self: no matter how hard it is, DO NOT LAUGH when son accidentally swears.
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Copyright 2013 Sheri Thomson