One of the mum’s at school and I were chatting a couple of days ago. She was saying that the kids all seem to be particularly gruesome at the moment. I wholeheartedly agreed with her. We put it down to general malaise over the hideousness of February. She then said: ‘And I just don’t understand all this swearing in the playground. It’s ridiculous.’
I was completely unaware that there was a swearing epidemic sweeping the playground. Plus I am honestly and promisedly not that bothered about swearing in the playground. I have just kind of accepted that the playground is the first place all children learn things about deviant sexual practices, colourful swear words and intricate skipping manoeuvres as previously featured only on Malcolm McClaren videos. Then there’s the fact that I am sweary parent, and Jason has managed to teach Oscar to say ‘fucky fucky’. It’s a bit like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted.
Nevertheless, my friend was clearly quite bothered, which is no good. I asked her about it in more detail. It transpired that her daughter had come home a couple of nights previously demanding to know about ‘The F Word’. Apparently one of the girls in her class had been saying it to everyone. My friend was shocked. I was rather shocked myself. I know this supposedly sweary little girl and her mother and it is not the sort of thing that her mother would say let alone tolerate her five year old daughter saying. I said this. My friend said no! Apparently this kid is not saying ‘Fuck’. She is going around the playground saying; ‘The F Word’, because my friend’s daughter wanted to know what the ‘F’ in ‘F Word’ actually stood for!
I thought this was hilarious. My friend clearly did not. Saying ‘The F Word’ and thinking it is a powerful expletive is almost as bad as saying ‘Fuck you mother fucker!’ in her book. I bit my cheeks because I did not want her to think I was laughing at her. Everyone has their standards of child rearing and I fully understand that mine are unacceptably low down on the moral high ground chart.
Then my friend said; ‘And what’s all this ‘pooh plop’ business as well? Where do they get these words from?’ At which I looked away into the middle distance as if searching for my muse. In reality I was trying very hard not to make direct eye contact. I know full well where ‘pooh plop’ comes from. It comes from Katyboo Towers, Glenfield, that’s where it comes from.
I can’t feel too guilty about that one though. In my universe nobody is going to hell for saying pooh plop, even if they are only five.
But it is official. My shoddy parenting techniques are currently bringing down the moral fibre of the school. That and my disregard for official uniforms being the saviours of the western hemisphere. Damn them and their smug cardiganned ways. I shall continue my path of evil nonetheless. I am committed now.
On the same subject, we were in the car at the weekend when Tilly suddenly said:
Tilly: ‘Mama? I thought you said that they weren’t allowed to say the ‘C’ word in pg films.’
Me: ‘That’s right Tilly. They’re not.’
Tilly: ‘But I’ve seen one where they say it.’
Me: ‘No Tilly. You must have misunderstood. That’s not possible.’
Tilly: Indignantly; ‘I did! I did! When daddy took us to see Bolt! last week, they said it then.’
Me: Incredulously: ‘They can’t have Tilly.’
I was just about to qualify this with the words; ‘Are you sure they said cunt?’ which would really have thrown the cat amongst the pigeons, particularly as Oscar and Tallulah had their beady ears wide open and were drinking this all in in rapt fascination. Luckily Jason had his psychic radar on and could sense the impending disaster. He cut right across me.
Jason: ‘Which ‘C’ word are we talking about here exactly?’
Tilly: ‘Crap! They said crap in the film daddy.’
We looked at each other, Jason smug in having prevented disaster, me stunned and relieved.
Me: ‘Ah! That ‘C’ word. No! No Tilly. They’re allowed to say that.’
Jason; ‘Even though it’s not very nice and we’d rather you didn’t say it thank you.’ (although fucky fucky is completely acceptable obviously)
Tilly and Tallulah in unison; ‘So which ‘C’ word can’t you say?’
Me: ‘I’ll tell you when you’re twenty one.’
As a sever year old, I actually remember running up to my mum and saying “MUM!!!! is cunt a bad word?” with such glee and excitement on my face.
When I was eight, playing scrabble with my aunt and my mum, I put “tits” down, thinking it meant “small things”.
My dad once overheard me refer to a girl who lived down my street (when I was twelve!) as “a nice piece of fuck”.
I really do feel for my parents some times. They must be thinking, even now, i’m 23 “Oh christ, he’s always going to be a bit of bother, we’ll just have to keep an eye on him”.
I have had similar conversations with both of our older ones. They definitely know that word now (I checked recently) but we had some near misses in years past.
I am afraid I’m terribly lax with the language (f word mainly). I work on the theory that if they know a word and have been given appropriate and inappropriate context in which to use it then it’s not as exciting to swear and doesn’t happen. In our house swearing is considered to be use of the words ‘shutup’ or ‘idiot’ etc.
Don’t worry, all the overprotective parents will come to terms with the schoolyard swearing soon. If they think the kids aren’t going to hear it they’re fighting a losing battle!
This is hilarious
Not sure I understand what’s wrong with pooh plop mind.
When boychild was about 2 1/2, I was involved in chaotic NCT delivering – leaflets not babies – and everything was having to be done at haste in a minute window of opportunity.
Small voice from back of car
“Are you going to say “fuck” if the next traffic lights are red ?”
oops
Hi Katyboo, sorry for the lengthy silence, I have just been catching up on the last week or so – you seem to have been posting non stop. I found your bouncing baby posts so sad and moving. I cannot believe how ghastly your experiences have been and hope that the latest doctor is able to work out what is causing the current problems quickly for you.
I had a fairly relaxed attitude to swearing too – they are going to learn it sometime, so why worry? My daughters learned a lot of basic swear words from me, while i was driving. The rest they learned from the triplets who used to live opposite us. I explained which words they could not use in front of teachers and grandmothers and we never had any problems.
futiledemocracy
My parents say that about me and I’m going to be thirty seven in about four weeks time. It’s part of the rich pattern of parenting I think!
Ali
I was surprised that she was surprised to be honest. Maybe she went to a much nicer school than me. I went to a convent and the language there was shocking, particularly the nuns!
Bev
Pooh pah plop sometimes, which is obviously much worse!
Henri
Priceless! My friend said today that her daughter picks up all her worst language when they are on long and stressful car journeys together and she forgets she’s in the back!
Alienne
Thank you. You have had a hard slog at the coal face of blogdom indeed. Thanks for sticking it out with me.
My failsafe is always that they can say it when they’re twenty one. If they knew when that was they wouldn’t be so happy with my answer, but for now, as they have no real grasp of timescales it suffices and it’s way better than banning them outright!
I always remember my friend and her pre-school children coming round for tea once: they were very late, and as my friend was apologising profusely, Infant 1 chipped in “Yes: Fucking, *fucking* Wandsworth Bridge”. Which I thought was quite an astute comment for someone of four and a bit
x
There are so many things I forget to not say when I am at yours…HOT BOY!!!!!!!!!!!xxx
Mrs Trefusis
A very apt sentiment for one so young! I have often felt like that about Wandsworth bridge myself.
Saj
Hot boy! That’s ok. in comparison!
Yea I can’t remember which one I was telling u guys about but Tallulah was most interested to know why he was HOT!!! I am also not very PC as u know!!!
when i was raising the boys, trying to keep them from hearing (or using) swear words was absolutely impossible. for one thing, we lived in the bronx (think joe pesci in any movie at all). and it is part of the rich cultural venacular of my native borough to use swear words to season speech. for another thing, i lived in an *irish* neighborhood in the bronx, and those of my maternal ancestory seem to feel the “f word” is every part of speech there is… and for another thing, i had a very sweary sister who was the boys mother.
so, i never made a bit deal out of it. for one thing, i really feel words are never going to harm you in that context. i would have been far more upset if they had called someone a “nigger” or a “kike” or something like that. my method of dealing with it when they used those words in front of me was to act bored. i told the boys that there was nothing actually *wrong* with those words, but that they showed a distinct lack of imagination and lost their effectiveness when used too often. (i’m not much of a swear-y person myself… when *i* use the F word, populations flee). it seemed to have worked pretty well. to this day, i rarely hear the boys swear in front of me, unless thoroughly provoked.
Choo
Tallulah will now have filed that away somewhere. Her mind is like a steel trap!
Bronxbee
Indeed. Adopt, adapt and never let them know they’ve caught you on the hop. It’s why I spend a lot of time laughing in the toilet and then coming out with my stern ‘mum’ face on.
i must admit though, that i laughed out loud while reading about the other mother’s distress… i rarely have much sympathy for such prudish niceties… live in the real world, and as you say, adopt and adapt!
as for the conversation with Tilly — i nearly fell down off my chair laughing.