As a new parent initially you think of how good a parent you are going to be, how wonderful your kid is going to be, how you are going to give them the things and opportunities you didn't have, how they are going to change the world and all that crap. But most of us don't think about the awkward moments that can only happen when you have a child, and the even more awkward moments while you try to think of an answer to their questions and statements.
As I am sure this has happened to any of you who have children, this has happened to me and my wife over the last eight years since my son started talking.
The first instance was when he was two-and-a-half or there abouts. I was eating my breakfast sitting on the chair watching a bit of TV before heading off to work. My son was on the sofa just hanging out. A little father and son time if you like.
After a few minutes my son stood up on the couch, which backs onto the kitchen counter and sink, and grabbed his bottle and its lid.
I watched him as he tried to put the lid on the bottle a few times. The lid fell on the couch and he dutifully picked it up and tried to put it on the bottle. It fell on the counter a couple of times and each time he picked it up and tried to screw it on to the top of the bottle, to no avail. I could see he was getting a little frustrated, but like any good parent instead of helping him I wanted to see what he would do, and if he asked for help I would surely oblige.
Then, after one last try, still not succeeding and quite frustrated by this time he shouted a word I did not think he knew.
This four letter word starting with f came as a bit of a shock to me and at first I thought he must have heard it from his granddad the last time we were in Ireland.
After all his granddad had taught his twin cousins to swear because their father had given him a bit of trouble when he was a kid and he was only getting his own back.
But as my mom said, "he didn't lick it off the ground now did he?"
Meaning, he learned it from me.
And she is probably right. Where I come from every second word is a swear word and we even put them in the middle of words to make new words.
Not wanting to bring any attention to his four letter vocabulary, I just ignored him. He didn't say it again and he left the bottle on the counter.
I went to work and as far as I was concerned no one was any the wiser.
Then a few hours later the call came.
My wife, on the other end of the phone, after asking how my day was going decided to tell me how her day was going.
"Your son is swearing," she said.
"What?" I said with faked astonishment.
"Your son was riding his chopper on the deck and after doing one of his skids he hit the rails and fell over. Then he said (that f-word here) at the top of his lungs."
"No way," I declared. "Well, at least he used it appropriately."
Not the right thing to say.
Now he's riding around the deck and crashing into the rails on purpose and swearing each time. I had to bring him inside so the neighbours don't hear him, she said.
Good idea. We wouldn't want the neighbours to start copying him, I thought.
Not mentioning the baby bottle incident earlier that morning I asked where she thought he learned that from.
Well, it wasn't from his granddad, she said.
He had obviously learned it from me. I have been known to swear from time to time.
It appears he was having a great time with his new word, and when he knew mom didn't like it he did it more, laughing when she gave him heck.
We tried getting him to say muck for a while, but when he would swear and we asked him what he said, he would purse his lips with a wry grin and slowly say "muck."
Thankfully after a few weeks of my wife's excellent tutelage his profanity disappeared and he even started chiding me when I did it.
Now, thankfully, I have a swear-free child.
