My husband is an elementary school teacher and has grown accustomed to kids saying naughty things.
Today was no exception.
Today he heard the naughtiest thing he’d ever heard.
A second grader told a female classmate to…ahem…
“Suck his nuts.”
Now, I write a blog called,”Potty Mouth in a Sweater Set” but…
This kid is how old…8?
When I was 8, if a classmate told me to suck his nuts, I would have thought he was offering me some almonds from his school lunch sack.
I’d like to give this child the benefit of the doubt – maybe he didn’t even know what he was saying?
Like the time Colt started singing Blake Shelton’s “Your Lips Taste Like Sangria” at the top of his lungs at the airport gate while we waited for our plane.
Yes, my child is singing about French kissing and alcoholic beverages.
I realize that boys will be boys, but I won’t tolerate Colt using foul language in public.
Which is why I instituted a new rule.
(It’s actually a rule I stole from a friend of a friend of a friend, but I’ll go ahead and take credit for it.)
Potty words are only allowed in the potty (at least until you’re old enough to start your own blog.)
Colt can say whatever he wants – alone in the bathroom.
Just get it all out, I say.
And flush it down the toilet.
One evening, Todd heard him singing loudly, “I got my TOES in the water, ASS in the sand.”
Another country-western favorite.
Maybe we should switch radio stations?
“You can’t say that word, son!” Todd yelled from the bedroom.
“I can say whatever I want, because I’m alone in the bathroom! Mom said so!” Colt yelled in reply.
Soooooooo we might have to modify the rules a bit.
I’d like to pretend he doesn’t hear any of this from us.
Like when Ralphie’s mom, from A Christmas Story, asks him where ON EARTH he had heard the F-word.
“Now, I had heard that word at least ten times a day from my old man. He worked in profanity the way other artists might work in oils or clay.”
But we do try to limit our cursing, arguing, etc. to very little around Colt.
Nevertheless, I know that even if we were running this home like a convent, he’d be exposed to obscenities on the bus, in the cafeteria, at soccer practice.
I’d like to build a 100 ft wall around him (and make him pay for it.)
But that’s just not realistic.
And it wouldn’t matter, because now kids learn everything on the Internet anyway.
When I was a kid, we learned bad words and inappropriate dance moves from MTV and Vh1 (does MTV even still exist?)
My parents forbade me to watch both of those stations, as well as The Simpsons and Roseanne because the children were disrespectful to their parents.
It seems so much harder to shelter our children these days, since they all have their own iPhones and iPads and VTech computers and laser beams.
So for now, it’s parental controls, potty words on the potty, and lots and lots of praying.