When I glanced in the rearview mirror, my heart jumped. Emmeline’s eyes were wide, too wide. And my mind raced with reasons why a normally cheerful, chatty toddler was struck dumb. She simply stared straight ahead, unmoving, eyes wide.
“You OK?”
Nothing.
It was raining too hard and there was too much traffic to do anything else but reach back and tap her knee. For a second, I thought she was choking, and I quickly tried to recall what I had thrown in the backseat to keep her occupied so I could drive across town to pick up some flooring samples.
“Hey kid, are you OK?”
More silence.
I turned around just in time to see a smile play across her lips, and I groaned. I knew exactly what was coming. I could feel it. She wasn’t choking or sick or sleepy. She had heard it all, every last word, and she was simply processing, preparing to regurgitate every utterance I had bestowed upon the automobiling world in the past half block of sodden, traffic-choked bumper-to-bumper chaos.
“Sheet!” she screamed, clapping her hands. “Sheet sheet sheet!”
She then honked an imaginary horn on her lap.
“Beep! Beep! Sheet!”
I shouldn’t be allowed to drive with kids. It should be on my license much the same way it is for people required to wear prescription glasses: “Not allowed to drive with anyone who has taken up the ability to mimic without the benefit proper situational timing.” Instead, my license simply says “donor.”
I’m calling the DMV.
We rarely use the car during the week and despite each time pledging to stay calm and collected before we pull out of the garage, I invariably treat any car time as if we’re just two sailors enjoying a little shore leave. At home, on the bus, walking around, I can usually cover any slips with near-curses. Damn becomes “D … arn!” Shit becomes “Shhh … oot!” For the longest time I thought my grandma’s favorite curse word was “ffffff …. iddlesticks!” It didn’t dawn on me until this year that she was probably aiming for something a little more expressive but had the wherewithal to take in her surroundings first. Would I had her skills when I’m in the car. Only the car. I don’t know why that is.
A friend was telling me she acts the same way in her car.
“It’s like we forget,” she said, “that there are little people back there … listening.”
Listening to everything.
When Dana came home the other day and heard Emme’s newest grasp at vocabulary, she did a double take.
“What did she just say?” Dana asked
“Shoot.”
“Really? Because it sounded an awful lot like–”
“No, it was shoot. She’s been saying shoot all day, and fudge, and darn and you silly mother farming ace in the hole! I think she’s gifted. You know, when it comes to the maternal agri-gaming nomenclature. Normal kid stuff.”
When Dana said I couldn’t use the car for day trips anymore, Emme could be heard in the background, yelling something about cement infrastructure used to hold back water, and all I could think was: Now you get the timing right.
That was a freaking funny post.
Yep, it’s true. Once you’re in the front seat and they’re in the back – especially if they are being quiet – it’s outta sight outta mind.
Watching the Giants’ kicker flub not one, but TWO field goals last week, a small person who resides in our house said “Shet!”
Ooops.
We try to go with the Stripes curses: “Son of beech! Sheet!” Doesn’t always work, but then again, a colorful and varied vocabulary is a good asset for preschool, no? I’ll be disappointed if my kid isn’t That Kid who teaches all the other kids how to swear.
Hilarious post. I have the same problem!
Very funny. We’re going through the same thing. Our 22-month-old has been on an “oh shit” kick for about a month now. Luckily we haven’t gotten any reports (yet) from his school about the use of his new adult vocabulary.
Does this phase ever end??
We’re having issues with “Gosh man” over and over again.
I think I said that like three weeks ago.
cement infrastructure used to hold back water
LOL
I am so using this.
*giggle* We are having trouble with “fricking” around here. That became the defacto “F” word for a while until we heard our 6 year old spew it in anger at a video game. Dang it to heck, it didn’t sound good. I sure hope he hasn’t been spewing that at kindergarten. We are trying to switch to “frack” or “frell”. Maybe it will foster an early interest in SciFi.
I feel your pain….. and I love your creative ‘homonyms’….
By the way, I think that she is a genius…. I just think so.
My potty mouth gets me in to trouble on a regular basis – but most often when driving. DMV will be calling me any minute. I”m sure of it.
that’s totally happened to me before. squid just suddenly quiet from the back seat. it freaks me out. i thought he was choking one time, too. and the repeating bad words has happened lots. how does he know it’s a bad word, i wonder. he seems to know that “shit” is somehow worse that “shoot” because he bursts out laughing whenever i swear! it’s weird…
I was able to buy a little time with my toddler with “no, you almost have it, it’s pronounced ‘shoot’.” It still does sound like he’s swearing when he randomly says “shut” (as in shut the door). Unfortunately in our house, it’s cats, not cars, that trigger our primal anger. I don’t know of any good way to smooth over his saying “get down off table goddammit!” That’s pretty unambiguous.
Nice–a farm girl. Could (almost) save.
They really are so brilliant, aren’t they? Try to get my son to put on his clothes in the morning, it’s like he has gone suddenly deaf, but the minute some darn driver in the rain raises my hackles (that wasn’t YOU, was it? No, of course not, we’re the two GOOD rain drivers in SF), it’s stuck like glue.
Then there are the things that just sound bad. My daughter used to switch her sh- for s- sounds. And then she’s “sitting on the potty” and singing it out for what seems like forever.
lalalalala…
I LOVE Chilly’s “no, you almost have it”. Utter brilliance!
Well, that is the right place to sing about it, I suppose. And yeah, Chilly’s on to something.
I didn’t think you had a car, now I know why you rarely use it.
That was SO funny.
We have one car in the family and I just blew whatever chance I had at getting a beater for day trips.
Sadly I first interpreted “cement infrastructure used to hold back water” as something else that starts with a “D” although wikipedia tells me that those are usually earthen walls built along the edge of water to prevent flooding, so not quite the same thing.
But it does remind me of the story about the boy who stuck his finger in the duck”…
Robin Williams has a schtick where he says something about “you say fuckit, and a little man in the rocket seat from the back says ‘fuckit’”
This will so be my world.
“Maternal agri-gaming nomenclature?” Fookin’ brilliant. Wait until Emme gets into the “poo-poo” and “pee pee” comedy stage [lasting 1-70 years], though maybe she will display more poise than some of our little barbarians. Lately, Isaac is given to reminding me that “poo poo stays in the potty. We don’t take it out.” And really, what better advice can a child give?
I’m not very good at catching myself. Truth is I seldom try. Everyone knows cool kids cuss. When my oldest turns six I’m going to teach him to smoke.
We had an evening where the big one walked around going “sheet” under her breath; much like I did earlier in the day when I broke most of a toenail off. She limped around all night, “sheet, sheet, sheet.” She was in the thick of speech threapy at the time so I told Daddy to just be happy she was using a new word & ignore her. Luckily the ignoring worked with her & it passed. I’m sure not so much with the little one. However, based on the little one’s personality I fully expect her to be teaching us words we didn’t know pretty quick here.
Better they learn them from us then get them wrong by learning them from their friends at school right? Or was that drugs & sex? Damn, my kids are screwed.
Mike, didn’t I tell you to watch your language? You didn’t believe me , no … had to try it out for yourself. Arabella used to say dang alot, especially in the car. Now she just yells “STUPID DRIVER!”
Oh, well done–on both counts! I’m guilty of this, too–I just can’t seem to help myself. Just wait until Emme gets old enough to admonish you from the backseat about your language choices!
my son wants to name one of his bears “zach-ass” . . . =/
OMG! LOL at Zach-ass! That is priceless!
My husband and I are no good at censoring ourselves, and my husband doesn’t really care if the kids use those words, as long as they use them properly (Don’t want our potty mouth kids sound stupid, too!).
At some point, I gave up – I made sure they knew that they cannot say those words at school, church or Grandma’s house, and that pretty much took the fun out of it for them, I think.
donor. you are funny, dude.