Kathleen McCall:
Occasional�� Muse�

2001-08-12 - 9:10 p.m.

Watching Your Language

"Don't say FART at the dinner table!"

See what I'm reduced to?

I'm reduced to dining with two little creatures who think the word "fart" is the funniest thing they have ever heard, and who fall off their chairs when Mamma says it.

I am reduced to dining with two little creatures who then proceed with the same topic, substituting the word "gas", completely oblivious to rules of acceptable/appetizing dining conversation.

Little farts.

I'm never really sure what to do with the issues of appropriate language. If that's the issue - is it? Because when Older Daughter was three and knocked the Comet off the bathroom counter and was enveloped in a giant Comet Cloud and came out of the bathroom yelling "OH SHIT!" wasn't that appropriate language?

When one preschool daughter was enterprising enough to look at her own bottom in the mirror and announce proudly that she had a HOLE, wasn't that appropriate language? Even when her daddy said I was slutty for agreeing with her? It IS a hole, isn't it?

I'm always confused about this.

My language is...well...medium, I guess. Depends on your viewpoint. One thing I will never ever say is "the f-word." I think that's really, really bad, "the f-word". I just say fuck when I need to. I hate a mealy-mouth.

I've never heard my kids say it. I'm not SUPPOSED to hear them - that much I do remember from my junior high years. They'll say it. They'll say it a LOT. Every other word. It's the absolute best single-purpose word they'll have. In just four letters it says, "I am independent. I don't do anything I'm told to do. I have no respect for authority. I am all grown up. I do what I want." That's a big fuckin' word, isn't it? How could you NOT say it?

Eventually it won't sound quite so much like that; it will start to sound more like, "I'm an idiot teenager who thinks swearing makes me look, like, edgy or something," and then it will gradually drop out of their vocabulary, to be reserved for when they needed to make a very important phone call by five o'clock and it's now ten after five and they're not getting any answer.

But I don't want to HEAR them say it. No, no, that violates the covenant. That word is about your SEPARATION from parental authority. Don't put ME on point about it. It's trashmouth. Never mind that I have a trashmouth myself. You want to grow up just like ME? Ha - scared you, didn't I?

I'm really not bad, but I'm not as good as some of my other mommy friends. Ask my kids, "What does Mom say when she's mad?" and the answer might be, "She says "Crap on a stick!" or "What kind of bullshit is THAT?" " Not perfect, me. Although I'm not sure a priss-mouth is perfection, either. But if I had a priss-mouth, I would be safe in requiring the same of my children, and I wouldn't have to THINK about it.

"Some words are adult words." Oh, save me - what kind of bullshit is THAT? Some CONCEPTS are adult concepts. Like autoerotic asphyxiation and no-load mutual funds. Not at my dinner table, thank you. But "shit" is not an adult concept. In fact, it's a kid concept. Why should use of colloquial words be restricted to adults? Because they're kind of ugly? Is ugly an adult concept? You have to understand, my kids are going to argue this with me, unless I revert to my "It's a cultural thing; just live with it. And put your bathing suit top back on."

I wish I could just let them say what they want, and get over it in their own time. That would be enlightened parenting, wouldn't it? But how am I going to learn not to cringe when my eight year old says "This piece of shit Barbie is broken." (Okay, cringe and laugh at the same time.) But I have enough cringe-triggers NOW. I have the noises from the back of the house that say something just broke, and noticing the sand table got left open so that it will have catshit in it again, and six messages on the machine last night from my mother. I don't need to do any more cringing, thank you.

I never got my mouth washed out with soap, when I was a kid. For one thing, they would have had to catch me, and I was fast. But for another, my mother knew - knows - more four-letter words than I will EVER know, and uses them all. She's "colorful." Next to her, I'm pale pastel.

No answers. It's the war of Enlightened Parenting versus Knee-Jerk Mouth-Soaping. We'll just have to wait it out.

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