Act 5, Scene 2: “Fudged Again”
C and E bounce around their room, flinging stuffed animals.
“Guys, how about a book? How about the alligator book?” suggests TRL.
E stops for a moment and turns to TRL. “The alligator? The fucking alligator.”
TRL stares, at a temporary loss for words. His brain does a quick search for appropriate parental responses. He knows you want to discourage the use of the word, but by forbidding the use or registering heightened emotion the kid will be drawn to it like forbidding sex or liquor to teens.
‘Ding’ - TRL’s brain comes up with a response: “Ah, we don't say that word, we say ‘oh shucks’ instead,” says TRL. “Or ‘shoot.’”
“Oh shoot, the fucking alligator,” responds E.
posted by trl at 11:19 AM
4 Comments:
With no older kids in the house, I wonder where E learned this kind of language.
I know the question is rhetorical, but to eliminate any other possibilities and hone in on the culprit, it's not the wife.
In my defense, it's usually at moments of great pain (mostly physical, but probably the occasional emotional smack upside my psyche).
My advice - ignore it. Unless, of course, every other word out of E's mouth is foul. Most teachers and caregivers (unless they double as truck drivers) don't appreciate this kind of language.
That's what the wife keeps warning. I guess this puts the cabosh on calling their penises "weenicals." And it makes driving in traffick a real verbal challenge.
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