We have barely entered the phase where words like "poopy-head" and "bum-toots" are funny, hilarious even. I'll catch Kaleb and Leah whispering in a corner, giggling over any word combination including burp, toot, poop or pee. I chastise them, saying something parental like, "We don't say things like that," which makes it all the more appealing. I should have been grateful for their age-appropriate interest in bodily functions because, unfortunately, just a few weeks ago we graduated to our first four-letter experience.
Kaleb was in the livingroom, trying to put his shoes on by himself, and, frustrated that it wasn't going well, said, "Oh shit!"
"What did you say?" I asked from the kitchen, immediately regretting my request that he swear yet again.
"Where did you hear that word?"
When he was two "Sandlot" was his favorite movie, and until about a year ago baseball was the most important thing in his life. Now the lineup goes something like this: 1. Spiderman, 2. Any other super hero, and 3. baseball. Kaleb used to watch Sandlot with mitt in hand, pretending to catch, throw and hit with the movie cast. I knew that one expletive was in the movie, but didn't think he would notice it. It's just one word, for heaven's sake, one word amongst thousands.
But apparently, while watching the movie with Leah the week before he did notice that one word, to the point where he understood the context in which it should be used. After explaining to him that the "s" word is not a nice word and definitely not a word we use, he nodded, apathetic, and moved on to some other project in his bedroom.
Leah had been listening to my little Bad-Word Lecture in the kitchen.
"We don't say shit," she said. "Shit is a bad word."
"Okay, Leah, that's enough," I said.
"Because shit is a bad, bad word," she said. "And we don't say bad words like shit."
"All righty. Let's go play with Kaleb now," I said, steering her into their bedroom where I hoped she'd forget the word that we don't say, especially as many times as she just did.
Since then we haven't had a problem with the "s" word, and I've decided it's because neither of them realize that shit is just a synonym for poop. If they knew that I’m sure it would inspire creative word combinations that wouldn’t be contained in the little corners of my house. With my luck, they would be shouted from grocery carts and in church parking lots.
So I’ll take the “poopy heads” and “bum-toots” any day of the week, and be grateful for them.