But perhaps I really should moderate my language...it's not as if I have not been warned!
A few years ago my Mother and I went shopping to Norwich to buy The Boy some shoes. He was about three or four at the time. It was a glorious sunny spring day prbably teh first for many weeks a bit like now. We parked the other end of Pottergate and walked in past teh market and to the Royal Arcade looking for children's shoe shops. Everywhere we went we saw people eating ice creams.
The Boy: Mummy can I have an icecream?
Me: No darling we are going to buy shoes...
After traipsing about some more we found the perfect place for shoes and bought a pair of beautiful red trainers which met the approval of my mother, my approbation and of course, most importantly, they got the nod from the Boy.
Passing waterstones on the way to Habitat, The Boy saw some more people eating ice creams.
The Boy: Mummy I want and ice cream!
me: I want never gets, now come on Boy we have more shopping to do.
And so we did, wandering around Habitat and detouring into Jarrolds. Finally after what must have seemed like ages and feelign just a tad hot and bothered we started to make our way back to the car up Pottergate.
We passed and ice cream vendor.
The Boy: Mummy I want an ice cream...
I ignored him.
The Boy: Granny I want an icecream.
My Mother ignored him
The Boy: I NEED an ice cream
We both ignored him as we strode purposefully on up the hill with him dawdling a little behind.
Finally the longing got too much for him and just as we all strode into a small square full of studentsd laying around on the grass and smart ladies loitering in front of smart shop windows a carrying voice was heard..
The Boy: I WANT A BLOODY ICECREAM!!!!!!!!
Much as I wanted to charge after my mother, who by now was practically racing away in her attempt to distance herself from us both figurativley as well as physically, I was in no position to pretend he wasn't mine mostly because with that demand he also decided to have a sit down strike...
A few years down the line and I find that I don't like hearing my children swear, while it may be funny in a four year old on the odd occasion it is no good in a seven year old especially when other children are about who are quick tattle tale to their parents.
We now have a swearing box and my purse is definitley getting lighter and as for his swearing - I have hardly heard a bad word...!
Picture shows: Hagar The Horrible by Dik Browne
14 comments:
Ít's definitely permissible when it's the only appropriate way to express exactly how you feel . Four year old got it just right !!
I don't like hearing children swear, but mine learn all sorts of words when I have to pursue that bloody dog into places where she shouldn't go...
PS - see you at CyberMummy!
I'm with the Boy; I think I would have wanted a bloody ice cream if everyone else had one and I didn't! I don't like too much swearing (Gordon Ramsay for example) but I would argue there is appropriate swearing. I learned to moderate my language after my eldest, aged five, dropped something and was heard to remark: "That's a bit of a b*gger." I was guilty as charged.
I heartily agree with Preseli Mags! You dragged him round shoe shops and the like and the poor soul didn't get a 99?! I think he did remarkably well to hang on that long before having a bloody good rant! ;-)
Bloody hell - poor child having to wait for an ice! It's so difficult not to let the odd little b***** or s*** slip out in front of our dear little ones isn't it - mine is often to be heard tutting at me saying 'you sweared mummy', so I'm trying very hard not to, but other drivers in particular make me ANGRY !
Had a similar moment on a family holiday, when I asked my four-year-old to come inside for supper and she, fiddling with the swingball rope, said, 'I'm just fixing this, the bastard.' Granny not pleased. (I, however, was a teensy bit pleased – I thought it was a fine swear, of its kind.) Have tried since then to stick to 'Oh my goodness'.
It's not really the same, though, is it?
Oh you should hear the stuff my six year old is exposed to with two teens in the house. Half the words I ban, they insist aren't even swearing, but coming out of the mouth of the Little Guy wouldn't be funny either. (Examples include, but are not limited to "jackbutt" and "a-hole".)See - not exactly swearing, but still...
I think you were lucky to just get away with a "bloody"! He's male and had been shoe shopping...no two factors conflict more!
Can't help but agree with muummeee's comment. I've written a post with a link to you Tattie. I enjoyed this post!
Ha ha, have blogged about this exact same subject myself.
I knew my swearing was becoming an issue in terms of my parenting when one of my sons who was three at the time began referring to the local garage as 'The bloody garage'
I try to watch my language these days... with varying degrees of success!
HeHe that was bloody funny :-)
That was really funny-especially loved visualizing your mum racing away! LOL
Hi Tattie,
The shops in Norwich are very familiar to me, know of that great shoe shop in the Royal Arcade for children's shoes, think maybe Start-Rite? Now did your son get that ice-cream.! probably did, very funny Tattie.
xx
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