True, I Swear

2 Apr

The very talented Lindsey over at Suburban Turmoil, has written about 3 posts over the past couple weeks that have made me think “Oh, I really want to write about that, too.” But you know, write about all three and I might get a little blog award titled “Unoriginal Stalker ” to add to my Kreativ Blogger badge from Ingrid.

 Plus, the deep ones make my brain hurt a little, and listen Internet, I like you a lot but we’ve only been dating 3 months and I’m not ready to make that kind of commitment.

So, Lindsey asked for folks’ go-to story at cocktail parties. I do not actually get invited to a lot of  any cocktail parties, but this is the story I pull out at PTA mixers. People laugh uproariously,  and then back away slowly and don’t let their kids play with mine anymore.

As our daughter got ready to enter kindergarten, she discovered a new favorite word. This was nothing new. She she fell in love with flags at age 2, but could not say the “fl” blend. So she did a lot of rapturous announcing of “LOOK, A BIG FAG! A BIG BLOWING FAG!”

But at 5, she was enthralled with calling things that did not meet with her approval “freaks.” This, I freely admit, is  my fault and mine alone.  I know you’re shocked. 

So one August day before school started, we sat down and explained that she could certainly call the dogs freaks when they jumped on her, call characters that on TV, but that “freaks” was not a word we were going to use for our new classmates or our teacher.  It was a word we did not use at school. Only home. Or church. You know, as in “Jesus freaks.” Ahem.

Things went well with the freak moratorium.

And then, the 100th day of kindergarten came. It’s a big deal, you know. At our school, the day involved glittery crowns with “100” on them.  Disney princess-exciting x 10.

But as my daughter was waiting in the cafeteria to be picked up, a rambunctious boy grabbed her crown, and tore it.

And I arrived, along with EVERY OTHER PARENT AT THE SCHOOL, just in time to see her standing on the cafeteria table bench, pointing down at the crown-tearer and screaming in unrestrained fury:

“I WANT TO CALL YOU A REALLY BAD NAME RIGHT NOW…

“BUT MY MOTHER SAYS I CAN ONLY USE THE F-WORD AT HOME!!!”

The cafeteria hushed.  I could hear every adult in there imagining dinner at our house “Pass the f-ing green beans.” “I want some more  f-ing ice tea.” “Stop feeding the f-ing dogs at the table.”

I tried to salvage things by calling out cheerfully, “that’s right honey, we do not call people freaks at school.”

But you know, people were already scurrying away to talk about us in the parking lot. 

Freaks.

Got your own great moment in parenting? Share a link in the comments. I could read this stuff all freakin’ day. -lettergirl

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10 Responses to “True, I Swear”

  1. Elle April 2, 2009 at 9:40 am #

    Thank God I wasn’t eating, or I’d be choking! LMAO. Can’t believe I’ve never heard this story before.

    I think I told you this one, though–at age 5, “O” loved all thing Barbie. We were in the Barbie aisle at Toys R Us, and she couldn’t day “Jewel” right. She was yelling “Look mom, it’s Jew Girl Barbie!”

    Over and over and over again. I got the weirdest looks from the rest of the parents, and had to duck out of the Barbie area till it was clear. lmfao!

  2. kellypea April 2, 2009 at 9:51 am #

    Totally hilarious. I can just see her standing there. Pointing. Too funny. My memory is fading on stories like this from my boys, but I’ll never forget that once we sat down to dinner together (an my mother lived with us for quite a few years…) talk invariably turned to butts, and cracks, and farts. Oh my. Of course, my mother would sheepishly look at my husband and I because it was ALL her fault. To this day, when we all get together, somebody brings it up. Somehow, it’s not cute anymore — especially when there’s someone at the table who doesn’t get our particular brand of humor. Their loss…

  3. dawn April 2, 2009 at 11:05 am #

    I love your crazy ass family, makes mine seem less dysfunctional. LOL just kidding.

  4. queenofhaddock April 2, 2009 at 12:53 pm #

    My son was a frog for Halloween when he was 2, but whenever you asked him what he was going to be he’d always say “f*ck”. I was funny until he said it to my grandfather. Oops!

  5. ingrid April 2, 2009 at 1:10 pm #

    Tooooo, freakin’ funny!!! ha-ha! One of my twins had ear problems so he heard everything funny. Well, “T’s” sounded like “F’s”. (yes, that’s right) Until he was about three EVERY time he said truck he said F-K! Oh, wait it gets better his twin would say no, no, not F-K! “Tr”uck! If I wasn’t quick enough it would go on & on with the one trying to correct his brother and the other one trying to say it the correct way which meant they BOTH said it MANY times. Talk about embarassing. So glad when the ear tubes went in!
    ~ingrid

  6. lettergirl April 2, 2009 at 1:42 pm #

    dawn, that may be the first t-shirt offered by the blog. “My crazy-ass family makes other people feel better.”

    Elle, dying at Jew-girl Barbie.

    kellypea, I think our families could eat together just fine.

    Ingrid — my *brother* had the truck/f-ck difficulty as well. And loved them! “HEY! A GREAT F-CK!”

    queen, I would have *loved* to see that costume, LOL.

  7. canarygirl April 3, 2009 at 3:26 am #

    I freaking love your kid. And will admit that I may be partly to blame for her usage of the f word. 😉 MUAC!

  8. Juani April 3, 2009 at 7:43 am #

    I sooo remember this story…still cracks me up! Love that kid! LOL

  9. Tami Lyn (a.k.a. Casey) April 3, 2009 at 8:12 am #

    I myself had the *truck* word problem as a child. I guess I could say train no problem, but always ‘oh look at that big f*ck’. My Mother still brings it up occasionally (like Christmas this year) and I’m almost 43.

  10. Katwmn April 7, 2009 at 8:52 am #

    OK…the grocery store “incident” where my son, who was 2-3 at the time told everyone, and I mean EVERYONE whether they had a penis or a vagina (and there were a few that were iffy), or when my darling daughter sat across from me at the mother-in-law’s table (Grandpa Ev chews with his mouth open – REALLY open) and announced “How come Grandpa Ev gets to chew with his mouth open? You said it was rude and disgusting.”

    God…I could go on forever – they are now 18 and 19. It doesn’t stop – trust me…but now I get to embarrass them in return.

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