Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Parent = Super sleuth

Standing in my mother's kitchen today, E uttered the phrase that I had been hoping that she'd only reserve for home. With her hand resting on top of the trash can she says "F*cky, F*ck, F*cky". At first I just stared at the tiles on the floor, pretending that I was too absorbed in thought to have noticed my daughter's profanity. But my mother's glare pierced my soul, and eye contact was inevitable.

My mom: Yeah, we heard that earlier today too. Her Grandpa told her to watch her mouth. (My mother lets out a pretend giggle letting me know that she doesn't think its funny at all)

Me: Um, well -- yes, we've been hearing this word too. But we don't use that kind of language (I'll pause why you all laugh about that) and we don't even watch that kind of TV or movies until after she's in bed. (That 2nd part is true, and while at least one member of this household is famous for his ability to make an entire sentence using only curse words, these words are never used in her presence. Well, almost never.) I have noticed that she often says it when she's around the trash can, but I have yet to make the connection.

My mother confirmed that the other time that day she had uttered those unforgettable words, she was by the trash can.

Later on, I'm describing the scene at my mom's to Pat, when it suddenly hits me. What do I say when she starts pulling stuff out of the trash can or playing with the lid? I say "No, that's Yucky, yuck, yucky"! Aha! Pat quickly confirmed my diagnosis by adding that he notices that she says it most around him when he's changing her diaper, which also often warrants a big "Yucky yuck yucky"!

Mystery solved, and tomorrow's sound of the day will definitely be the "Y" sound!!!!

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