So, I’m Irish, which seems to predispose me to use some rather unsavoury language. I don’t know how or why as a nation, our love affair with swear words began. What I do know is we use them a lot;in circumstances where other cultures would baulk at the insertion of a ‘bad’ word into daily exchanges. Commonly heard greetings in this part of the world include “How the f**k are ya?” and the pithy “Well c**t!”
To make matters worse, I’m from Limerick where the use of the c-word is liberal and often used as a term of endearment to describe someone, although it’s unlikely it will ever replace “gowl” in popularity.
And here’s my dirty little secret-I rather enjoy swearing. My daily repertoire is littered with f this and f thats. I regularly use the c-word,it’s just so onomatopoeic, I love it! In France, they call swear words ‘gros mots’, literally ‘fat words’. That’s how I feel these words are-fat, full of meaning and fun to use! I have even started swearing in front of my parents, so comfortable have I become with these words, for after all, they are just words,no? But words have meaning.
Herein, lies my problem. I would happily continue on swearing like a trooper, were it not for the tiny impressionable human who shares my living space.
Now I knew I had some time before that jumble of letters and phrases we call the English language began to make sense in Mini’s head but I realised today that that time is up with the uttering of her first word.
A little background info-Mini has recently begun to crawl properly-before she was merely dragging herself around with her arms, before realising that hey-those bigger limbs attached to my bum can be useful for something too. Now that she’s figured it out, she gets around the house at alarming speed which means she gets to places and objects she shouldn’t which leaves my partner and I scrambling around in her wake, calling out the word ‘no’ out over and over.
So it’s no surprise really, that this lunchtime, when Mini had had her fill of iron rich but rather tasteless I must admit, spinach, turkey & broccoli bowl, she leaned back in her highchair, little face contorted with fury and bellowed ‘Noooooo!”
So that’s it. If she’s picked up the word ‘no’, what will come next?I definitely do not want her second and subsequent words to be rude. I mean I used to think there’s nothing funnier than a small child with a potty mouth but only when it’s some American T.V. brat, not ones own little darling, right? That idea can f**k right off!As you can see, I have some work to do in reformatting my brain to a more child friendly and Ned Flanders level of swearing. Oh fiddlesticks!