A little over a year ago I shared a comondrum (a conundrum on a Monday) about Matty swearing. At the time he was two (which is insane to think about) and he had recently started swearing freely. Again, he was two, so of course I found it hilarious and adorable and, as you can imagine, had no problem with it at all.
Cut to today.
I don’t just have one child swearing freely. I have two. And while I still think it’s fine as long as they’re not using them to talk down to, berate or belittle other people, I have to admit it is a little overwhelming. Abbott — once our sweet, well-behaved baby who loved to sleep — has grown into an extremely vocal and (for lack of more PC terms) spirited (like, REAL spir-ih-ted) child. He repeats everything Matty says and has literally no volume control on his voice box (he’s basically a rabid parrot) let alone any fucks to give, so you can imagine what it’s like the moment Matty says anything colorful.
The other day we were watching Jurassic Park (don’t judge me) and Matty, while standing on the couch wide-eyed watching the scene where T-Rex runs after the Jeep, yelled, “HOLY SHIT! HOLYSHITHOLYSHITHOLYSHIT!” Suddenly, Abbott’s ‘holy moley’ turned into ‘HOLY SHIT!’ and I’m pretty sure had someone seen me and Seth’s faces, they would have said our eyes bugged out of our heads like an old Looney Tunes character. I mean, ‘holy shit’ is mild but it’s just the magnitude and speed at which it always happens. And the fact that Bot gives zero fucks about anything always kicks it up at least five notches. I mean, I can at least ask Matty to stop and he’ll be reasonable but if I ask Abbott to do anything, he scream-screeches (again, rabid parrot) in my face, squints his eyes like he’s a super model (this what he calls his “angry face”) and then does whatever he damn well pleases.
My god. He is cute but he is a fucking lunatic.
This morning he was standing outside of the house screaming at bugs in the air/trees: “HEY, YOU GET OFF THERE YOU ASSHOOOOOOLES!” Like, what?! And once at school pickup a couple months ago, his teacher told Seth one of his friends pushed him down and when he got back up he called him a ‘motherfucker!’ At any given moment, you could catch both of them running around the house talking about ‘those fuckin’ flies’ or dropping a good old ‘god dammit’, ‘shit’ and ‘fuck’ when they can’t get their train on the tracks, their dinosaurs to stand or – god forbid – carry all of their beloved Hot Wheels across the room in one trip.
It’s almost like my laissez faire approach — my no harm, no foul — way of letting them live their lives is backfiring a little bit. What once was cute has turned into something else entirely. Between mini-dad Abbott and mini-mom Matty, our house is full of loose lips, hot tempers, colorful language, loud voices and O-PIN-IONS. You know when they say, ‘be careful what you wish for’? I’m pretty sure this is exactly what they were talking about.