Considering Daf and I both swear like sailors, and often forget to tone it down around SB, I thought we were doing really well. I hadn’t heard SB swear once – no “oh shit” when she drops something, or “you bugger” when she’s annoyed, and definitely no impromptu “oh fuck!”s in the supermarket. When your toddler repeats pretty much everything else you say, that’s an achievement.
I also thought we were being very cultured, and introducing SB to a range of music that isn’t just Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and Wind The
Fucking Bobbin Up. Our most-played album in the car right now is the original cast recording of the amazing musical ‘Hamilton’. The language is a little blue, to say the very least, but it’s music and rap. There’s no way she’s going to pick up on that if she hasn’t picked up on the way we drop swear words into our conversations like there’s no tomorrow, right?
Lately, she’s started singing along to Hamilton. It’s pretty freaking adorable – she has a proper impassioned look on her face when she’s singing; closing her eyes and shaking her head with clenched fists, really getting into the piece. It’s hardly a surprise, considering the theatre degree she was practically born into, but I still never tire of watching her.
This child is cultured, I tell myself proudly. We’re raising her to appreciate good music.
Yes, I realise how much of a twat I sound right now. Our comeuppance this afternoon was short and sweet.
Sitting in the car on the way home from work, I switched “Hamilton” on and turned around to watch SB indulging in yet another dramatic performance. Sure enough, she sang the first few lines from the opening number of the show.
“How does the bastard, orphan, son of a whore…”.
Um, hold the front door! There’s us, congratulating ourselves on a job well done – and in trying to culture our child, we’ve taught her how to swear in spectacular fashion. Not only does she swear; she does it through the medium of song.
We probably should have turned the music off there and then. Responsible parents would have done that (responsible parents probably wouldn’t have had “Hamilton” on with their two-year-old around anyway), and tried to make as little as possible of the swear words – after all, they say that if you ignore it, it doesn’t become a “thing” for them, so they’ll stop saying it.
Us (okay, me) being the polar opposite of most responsible parents, rewound the song twice to see if she did it again (she obliged both times) and howled with laughter. Well, kiddo, if your mind’s been corrupted already, you may as well make the best of it. Sing your heart out, little potty mouth.
I’m not going to win any awards for Mother of the Year… but boy, are her school talent shows going to be fun.