Published on October 8th, 2014 | by Richard Black0
From the Mouths of Babes
I picked my daughter up from school this afternoon and after we discussed who she played with and what she wouldn’t eat for lunch there was a lull in conversation at which point Darcy popped out this little gem.
“Daddy says ‘fuck it.'”
“I’m right here in the car Darcy. You don’t have to talk about me in third person,” I said because grammar was obviously the issue at hand.
“That is not a nice word, ” I rebounded quickly into parent mode, “don’t ever use that word in school. Or anywhere else OK?” I added as an afterthought.
“Daddy says fuck it a lot,” Darcy said quietly a few seconds later.
“Just don’t tell your mother,” I responded, choosing damage control as the least of all evils and quickly began to create a plausible scenario in which my daughter heard me say the words “fuck it” without incurring the ire of my wife or the condemnation of my daughter’s teachers. Unfortunately I couldn’t think of anything that didn’t involve placing either myself or my daughter in danger but Darcy, unwittingly, came to my aid.
“Mama says shit,” she said in a voice just above a whisper.
“What else does mama say?” I asked before I realized I didn’t want the answer to the question. I’m fragile. My emotional equilibrium is entirely too delicate to learn what my wife really might think about me or what she says in private. I imagine that discovering one’s spouse often calls one a douschebag or a deadbeat would be upsetting in the best of circumstances and discovering that the terms have been used often enough to impress a four year old would bump things up level of two on the “I think we need to talk scale.”
Fortunately Darcy is much more discreet than her father and much more evenhanded when she chooses to dish out dirt. After narcing out both of her parents she decided to leave the subject alone. Instead of answering my poorly thought out question she simply closed her eyes, popped her thumb in her mouth and feigned sleep during the rest of the ride home. There’s a lesson to be learned here and, quite frankly, I’m not sure exactly what that lesson might be.
My takeaway from the experience is that my daughter is either an evil genius who might or might not be manipulating her parents or that she’s just a fairly bright and impressionable four year old with a keen ear for cursing. Neither outcome portends well for me, or my wife for that matter. That however is a problem for future Richard and hopefully future Laura as well.