Phew…that was close

Well, it’s a dang good thing you can’t pronounce /k/, my little Peanut.

Because when I caught you spitting out your first “FUT” in the living room, it took some of the edge off.

And though I explained it’s an angry word that we don’t say, despite your insistence that “Daddy says it!”, you’ve slipped a couple of times.

Thankfully, nobody knows what a fut is.

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9 thoughts on “Phew…that was close

  1. HA HA HA! I am SO borrowing “fut.” (I swear, Peanut has given me a whole new vocabulary. “I just no like your rules” and now this? Thank you, Peanut.)

    At least you have smart parental things to say. Good for you. Will be borrowing those too. The only time we heard that word to date (though I know it’s coming) was when Eldest came home from day care and said “f*ck it.” Husband and I just sat there, frozen and staring at each other, because we didn’t know how to respond.

    Our conversation went a little something like
    “Did you hear what he said?”
    “Did he really just say that?”
    “What do we do?”
    “I don’t know what to do!”
    “I don’t know what to do, either!”
    “I don’t know…if we say something he might just say it more.”
    “Maybe we should ignore it.”
    “Yeah, let’s ignore it this time and see if he says it again.”
    “Ok.”
    “Ok.”
    “I can’t believe he heard that at day care!”
    “I can. Once I heard the teacher on the phone say it. She had her back to the class and was talking to someone and just said it.”
    “That’s not cool.”
    “That’s SO not cool.”
    “We should tell the director.”
    “You tell her.”
    “No, you tell her.”
    “That teacher is leaving any way next week. Maybe we don’t need to say anything.”
    “Allright. I will say something. But next time YOU have to do the director talk.”
    “Deal.”
    “So we’re not saying anything to HIM, though.”
    “Not unless he says it again.”
    “Though we just sat here and talked about it right next to him.”
    “Yeah, but he’s watching Bob the Builder and is completely oblivious.”

  2. I’m afraid it’s all downhill from here. Luckily my little guy only swears in Spanish. Nobody here bats an eye, and nobody in my Canada world will understand him. For example? In English he says ‘red ants’ and in Spanish they’re the equivalent of ‘f*cking ants’. It’s charming, really, and so clearly not my fault.

  3. jc, he TOTALLY needs more cowbell. Unfortunately, someone might actually give him a real cowbell, and with it might hand over the rest of my sanity.

    Ink, LMAO. I, too, waited for the second fut before saying anything. But it was right on the tail of the first one. And I have made sure to never say that word—my dear, sweet, multipurpose all parts of speech word—in front of him ever. So I was so mad at Spouse and so not looking forward to ignoring it for years that I just made something up. I think you and Hubs had the same conversation with each other that I had in my head.

    Macondo, I, too, call them f—ing ants.

  4. My hubby has the cleanest mouth I’ve ever heard/seen on a man. I, on the other hand, was raised by Catholic drunks who said lots and lots of bad words. I was taught that whenever I heard a dirty word, I should shout “Delete! Delete!” so that the word wouldn’t stick in my head. It didn’t f-ing work, though. So the other day, when someone cut me off in the car and I muttered “shit,” eldest asked me, “Mommy, why are you shitting?” Of course.

  5. The other day my husband let out a loud “f*ck!” Luckily he was behind close doors, so Evan asked “Mommy, what does buck mean?”

  6. Oh my goodness…there is something about witnessing the first curse word…did he at least use it appropriately and with the correct emphasis?

    LOL!

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