The Power of (Certain) Words...

Sunday morning my son, who is 3-and-a-half, dropped the F-bomb. Yep. Out the F-word came from his innocent little mouth. Twice. Do they still make Lifebouy soap? thought I. Crap--I hope he never says that in front of my mother. Or at preschool.

My husband was witness to this. After a What did you say? to confirm, he asked Murray where he heard That Word. "From you," he said to his dad (AHA! I KNEW IT!), "And my mommy."

Um--I don't think so! It couldn't have been me! I don't say it much. (And if I do, it's more likely I'll say it at the office, and even then, under by breath.) But if not us, then who? He's only got basic cable in his room. All his DVDs are rated G. He hasn't seen our potty-mouthed friend Jerry since summertime. We must be the guilty party. What a proud moment in parenting!

And how do you explain to a kid his age just why that's not a nice word to say? Why can one little word can have so much power? The F-word. Scrotum.

The fact that's it's ALA awards time, along with the fact that my son suddenly curses like a sailor, reminded me of the whole The Higher Power of Lucky/Newbery/scrotum controversy happening around this time last year. Based on my quick BookScan check, Susan Patron's Newbery winner seems to be selling just fine, controversy or not. At home, I haven't gotten Murray to use the s-word when discussing his anatomy, but these days I'm not sure if it would be preferable to the daddy-taught terms he currently uses. I suppose I should go Google Lifebouy. Just in case.