This is the first year since I started blogging way back in 2007 (wow) that I haven’t participated in NaBloPoMo. Boo. I know I have a pretty big excuse and all, but I’m big on tradition, and this is one of my favorite traditions I participate in for myself. Alas, I think I’ll have to take a year off and give myself a break. I’m not superwoman.
I have, however, taught my son how to swear. This is after a couple of years nagging my wife to curb her own sailor’s mouth (she does have an excuse, as she was in the Navy, and they practically make you sign an oath to drop the f-bomb every few words). I once slipped while driving and muttered, “Fuck!” after which, BG proceeded to chant, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” and giggle maniacally. We have since done really well, though. When one of us has slipped, and he has expressed interest, we’ll say something like, “Oh, Mommy said the wrong word! That’s so silly! That wasn’t a word. I meant to say cluck instead!” Believe it or not, it usually works, mostly because he likes rhyming and wordplay so much.
Recently, though, I seem to be saying “damnit” a lot, and once in awhile I’ll catch myself and use the b-list expletive “dangit”–I suppose in an attempt to keep my kid from picking up anything too offensive. Recently, I dropped “Oh dangit,” in a moment of frustration, and BG laughed. He then proceeded to say, “Oh dangit! Oh damnit!” Uncontrollable boy giggles ensued. He giggled and giggled and said it again. He says it almost daily in the most adorable voice, followed by his contagious rolling giggles. It’s hilarious. I have to admit, I kind of love it. The good news is that he’s pretty aware that he can only say it around us, and honestly, what harm is “damnit” anyway? Maybe a kid fighting cancer deserves to have a few choice words at his disposal.