For the Love of "Damn it"!

So the story begins at my dad's house a few weeks ago. JC is exceptionally hyper when we're there for some reason and this time was no exception. Actually, he might've been a bit better than times before, but I doubt that was noticed by anyone but me.

Anyway, my dad has a glass-top sofa table featuring probably 20 framed photographs. Several of them are pictures of my kids (his grandchildren) that I have given to him over the years (it's what you do for a grumpy man who needs nothing and says he wants nothing, especially when you're poor like we are.) So JC was checking them out, and they started falling over. So I tried to intervene, catching one just before it fell off the table. And just as quickly as I'd set one back up, he'd be on to another. The kid is fast. After about the 3rd time of catching a frame just in the knick of time, I grew frustrated and firmly said, "No! Damn it!" Shame on me for having a potty mouth.

Well, my very perceptive little man picked up on this new word instantly and seemed to know that it held power. He immediately grabbed me and started repeating, "No, damn it!! No, damn it! No, DAMN IT!" while giggling. I decided it was best not to give him any attention and to change the subject. I thought it worked. But as I've said, he's a smart little dude.


A week or so later he overheard me say damn it again. (insert blushing emoticon here) This time I tried to play it off as if I'd said "darn-it" and I explained that sometimes I say darn-it when I feel frustrated. His response? "Darn-it means damn it, mom!" LOL Oy! Once again, I make an effort not to make a big deal out of it and was sure to turn my head away to hide the amused expression on my face. He repeated himself a few more times and I ignored and tried to distract him.


Fast forward to this past weekend at the park. My daughter and I were sitting on the bench and she wanted to take a picture of JC and I, so I told JC to give me a kiss so she could capture the kiss. So JC and I are in the "kiss pose" - I think he was holding my face , but I could be misremembering - and I kept waiting to hear the click of the camera. Seconds went by and JC stayed there in the kiss pose with me, which is surprising, really, so perhaps he was waiting to hear the click, too? Anyway, I started giggling as our lips were pressed together, thinking it was adorable that JC was posing with me this long, but apparently we just missed the click because M had already taken the picture. My giggle turned into full-blown laughter, which of course broke the pose. This frustrated JC and in the excitement of the moment, he smacked my mouth. It hurt. LOL So, I responded by yelling "Ouch!" and covering my mouth with my hand. JC responded, apparently trying to help me express myself with more passion, by saying, "Damn it!" (We really need emoticons here, folks!)

Again, I tried to play it off by telling him that the appropriate word is "darn-it" and he again explained to me that it means the same damn thing as damn it. Then he told me that darn-it rhymes with damn it. I finally broke down and told him that damn \it is not a nice word and that we should not say it anymore. He continued with a few other exchanges and questions about the words darn-it and damn it, which amused his sister, making it necessary for both of us to turn away and cover our faces so that JC wouldn't see our smiles. Then we carried on with our park outing, trying to put it all behind us. But that wasn't the end. Oh no, I'm afraid this might be a life-long tradition. I hope I'm wrong, but at the same time I'm so pleased that my potty mouth has improved enough that I use damn it more often than the S word or the F word. Yikes.


So then today we went to a local Chick-Fil-A so that we could play on their playground to expend some energy before the academic eval he had scheduled at the private school I've decided to send him to on a modified schedule. All was going well, I was a good girl and used only nice words. Suddenly, JC came out of one of the tunnels and said, "It smells yucky! It smells wike poop!" I explored the tunnel but found no poop smell. He insisted. I finally realized that he'd had a bout of reflux and spit-up on his shirt (the whole reflux thing is another story) and it smelled acidic, like vomit. So I told him that I thought what he smelled was vomit, not poop, and I tried to explain what vomit was. He took it in, quietly. Then suddenly said, "Vomit rhymes with damn it. They both 'begin' with the same ending sound, mom!"

Well, yes they do, son. They do indeed.


The good news, of course, is that he's picking up on ending sounds and beginning to experiment with rhyming. I take the good wherever I can get it. :)