Words from My Boys

Boy words

My boys have always loved words. They all spoke at an early age, much earlier than they walked. I guess I should not have been surprised when they picked up language of which I did not approve.
Once I had taken Matt to a community meeting at the Clay gymnasium. With standing room only, I found a safe spot and sat Matt on the ground next to me. While I was busy listening to the speaker, Matt was searching the floor. The soft spongy material of the floor made it the perfect tablet for an angry sixth grader to express his feeling about school. Matt had found an unfamiliar word which he decoded phonetically and asked me what it meant. After explaining to the shocked crowd that he was just learning to read, I gave him the quiet sign of a hand over his mouth.
Jeffrey was also precocious about words. He was almost expelled from 3 year old kindergarten for saying "dammit." Instead of washing his mouth out with soap, Mrs. Plummer and I decided to use Listerine. One smell and the offensive habit was miraculously controlled. Years later we found solid proof of his extended vocabulary while reviewing a tape of Matt's 6th birthday party. Amid all the joy and celebration focused on Matt was a cute disgruntled blond-headed boy standing by the table singing "Happy Birthday to Dammit."
Brad had his share of word stories, too. He loved to sing along with the radio. I have joked and said that my boys did not know there was any other music but "oldie goodies" until they became teenagers because that is all I played. Brad knew the tunes if not the lyrics because he joined in with a hum and a few words of Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Down on the Corner." The shock came at the chorus when he had misunderstood the words and sang "and the n----rs are at the beach." We weren't racists but he had picked the word up somewhere.
But my favorite word story involved Matt and Jeff. Brad was not even on the way so Matt had to be about 4 and Jeffrey not even 2, just learning to talk. One Sunday after church Matt came running from the nursery toward Joe and Me while we were talking to Grant, our preacher. His exact words were, "Dad, Jeff has done it now. He has said the f-word."
Joe and I both knew the time was coming but not at age 2. I looked at Joe and
assured him that Jeff didn't know the f- word. Matt kept insisting. Very calmly Joe took Matt over to a corner and asked him to whisper in his ear just what Jeff had said. In a faint whisper, Matt said," Fart."
I guess every parent stresses over the possibility of an
embarrassing word moment with a child. It is not so much a reflection of our
parenting skills as it is a reflection of the culture. I just wish I could have kept my boys innocent a bit longer.


Carol Hobby
June 11, 2011