I walked into a very dramatic scene yesterday involving lots of cars and trucks, crashing sounds (Boom, Bash, BAM), yelling and then the ultimate slam when the transformer swept in and told the weakly digger to “Move over you big boo boo”!!!!
I had to walk away so as not to keel over laughing then and there. I really should be thankful, we can be sorta potty mouths over here, but if that’s the best he’s got at 3 1/2 I’m thankful for that, once preschool starts I feel like his vocabulary will grow extensively and not in all the ways we want.
So in the meantime, “You big Boo Boo” whatever that is, works for me.
I may have to try it myself some time!
I guess it was inevitable, no matter how hard you try there are certain situations when you just can’t control your tongue. While I can’t remember a recent freudian slip, I’m sure there must have been one, a Lego stepped on, a driver being an a-wipe, the dogs chewing up yet another toy, me on the brink of losing my mind, the list of possibilities goes on. and on. and on.
I first suspected he picked up this saying a couple of days ago but wasn’t quite certain, I just couldn’t quite tell. It was if he was taking it for a test drive around the block. Clearly unsure of just quite what it meant, he would simply say it to himself. He would be walking around, and just sort of talking to himself, quietly then he would randomly say “Damn It” very slowly seeing how it sounded. The first two times I heard it I would stop and be like wait, what did he say, unsure if it was my crazy paranoid mommy mind playing tricks on me? It was not. I naively thought perhaps if I just ignore it, he will stop. He was never really using it in any sort of context, that is of course until tonight. So I just let it go after making it very clear that to my husband that we are now at war against swear words. Because our original attempts at avoidance somehow led us to damn it, we must escalate our restraint and wage war on our inner swearing demons. This is probably why my blog posts are writhe with swears lately, I’m channeling my need to be profane into writing. Probably better here than at work, I can’t imagine my clients would appreciate a letter that begins Dear Asshole… then again some might. Anyway back to our little heathen and his damn it, tonight he finally put it together in context and almost proudly announced after spilling his water all over the table, as if channeling my inner thoughts, DAMN IT!
So damn it he says damn it… and we embark on the world of overly exaggerated Uh Oh and Oh No’s damage control and please stop using damn it, damn it!!