Cursing

I've always been told that children are little mimics.  I didn't realize exactly how true this is until Lela learned to talk.  My older child was not one for repeating everything she heard, but Lela had to be different.  Unfortunately, one of her favorite pastimes became cursing.

We first learned that our beautiful baby girl had become a potty mouth when we heard her singing "fuck you" as if it were some pop song. My rebuke of "Lela, we don't say that word" was quickly met with "I'm just singing".  Thanks, Lela, for the vocabulary lesson

The next time she decided to demonstrate her skills was when we were returning from soccer practice.  As we are walking back to the car, the beads in her hair working as an alarm letting me know exactly how far ahead of my slow behind she had gotten, she demanded to have her snack, a Fruit Roll Up.  I put her in her car seat and told her to hold on, I would open it in a second.  As I get into the car, I suddenly hear "Bitch" coming from the back seat.  Enraged, I took her out of the car, spanked her (yes we spank because time out just did not work, but that's for another blog), drove home, spanked her again, and sent her to her room.  My husband, oblivious to the word that has just come out of our then 3-year-old, asks "What happened?"  I tell him, making sure to leave out nothing.  Summer then chimes in "That's not all she said".

Oh dear Lord, what else could she have said?  All sorts of things come to mind, and I begin to wonder whether washing her mouth out with soap will actually work.  I tentatively ask Summer "What else did she say?"  Her answer: "Bitch, give me my Fruit Roll Up!"

Well, at least she used it in context.

Lela at her soccer banquet - No cursing, thank God