Slip of the tongue

Originally posted June 30, 2006

It was bound to happen.

I know this. I accept this. I knew it was just a matter of time before a certain word would slip past Boo’s lips and hang in the air like a balloon with a slow leak. It happened tonight as a matter of fact. The three of us had just got home from work or from daycare and we were deciding what the night would have in store for us. I’m sitting on the floor leaning against the couch while Terry is sitting at his desk going thru his message boards. Boo is chattering away like a normal 2 year old does. Life is good. Then she happens to drop something and says:

“Fuck.”

Not only does she say fuck, but she says it THREE times!!! because she kept dropping whatever it was she was after. My eyes shot directly over to where Terry was sitting and he’s covering his mouth with his hand trying his best to stiffle a laugh. I shot him a death ray that said ‘are you happy you taught her the F-bomb???’

Immediately I was faced with a problem. Do I, say nothing and hope that she forgets that little tidbit from her ever expanding vocabulary, secretly praying that she doesn’t drop it again in front of the Virgin Mary herself, my mom, this weekend? Or, do correct her and tell her she can’t say that bad word and run the risk of reinforcing it in her spongelike mind?

Meanwhile, Terry is still stiffling a laugh.

I will FULLY admit to teaching her the word “shit”. I remember the day she dropped that little peach in front of my mom like it was yesterday. It was Christmas 2004. My entire family is in the livingroom of my mom and dads and she was learning how to walk and talk at the same time. All eyes were upon her and there were words of encouragement to take the leap of faith and walk unaided. For whatever reason all of us stopped talking at once and as she bent over to pick up something she had dropped she said “shit”. Instantly I felt all eyes on me and my brother says something along the lines of ‘Did she say what I just thought she said?’ My mother of course was standing in the doorway leading from the kitchen to the livingroom and witnessed the whole thing. I felt like a schmuck.

So here we are getting ready to go back to visit the parental units this weekend. We’re staying at my mom’s house Saturday night while Chris and Angela are in town. If I can make it past Sunday morning breakfast without her dropping any bombs, I will consider the weekend a total success.