The Quest for the "F" Word

This week, the boys discovered the existence of the “F” word and are quite anxious to find out what it is. They know it’s a bad, bad word. What they don’t know is that not only have they already heard it but they have even said it themselves on a few occasions. They have been BEGGING me to tell them what it is, and their logic is quite sound really. Ethan said, “How can I know not to say it if I don’t know what it even is?” Well, true enough, but there is something stopping me from saying it out loud at them while standing in the kitchen at snack time if I haven’t even dropped anything on my toe. So at random intervals throughout the day, one or the other of them will run up to me and say, “Mummy, is it Foolish?” (Ethan) or “Mummy, is it Farty Fart Fart?” (Jack). I think we have just about gone through every F word in the dictionary so far. One of these days they’re just going to realize, oh yeah, it’s what Mummy says when Jack makes us really late again or what Daddy says when he discovers the day’s worth of dishes in the sink.

When Jack said it, it wasn’t too long ago. We were working through a worksheet on planets and he was having trouble with it. Mike came upstairs and said “How’s it going Jack?” to which he replied, “Daddy, this is so f***ing hard!” I think we both turned purple and my head might have exploded a teeny bit trying not to react to THAT one.

Update: Ethan came to me after I got home from work and said that he knew what the "F" word is, and then he said THE WORD. It sounded just about fifteen shades of wrong coming out of a six-year-old's mouth, let me tell you. I asked him how he figured it out, and he replied that it was the word Daddy said today when the lady crossed the road not on the crosswalk. So thankfully I can blame Mike for that educational lesson. Then Ethan said it again at the dinner table, then Jack said it too, and Mike and I just about exploded and told them they would get kicked out of school FOREVER if they said it again. I think they are scared enough at the moment that they won't say it again for a LONG time. I hope.

Me and the girls went climbing last night. It was a lot of fun - I'll post a picture or two here once I have a look at them. If I determine if my ass looks really huge you won't see them here! The drawback to a good bout of physical activity is that I am now typing this using a pencil between my teeth a la My Left Foot since my hands and forearms have become weak little useless claws. Jack asked me to open a water bottle for him and I was unable to twist off the cap. Sad, sad, sad. But I made it to the top of the hard wall so it's all good. Maybe I will regain hand functionality tomorrow...

Aside: Can anybody tell me why, when I put on eye makeup, my mouth needs to open in an expression somewhere between Edvard Munch’s The Scream and what you look like when you sing the “WAH” part of Marilyn Manson’s Beautiful People? (And who knew I was so multi-dimensional that I can throw a 19th century expressionism reference in there right next to creepy – but strangely catchy – alternative metal?)

Later peeps.