The first leg of our Griswold Roadtrip was our longest. We planned it that way because we are brilliant like that. 13 hours in the car. THIRTEEN. Somewhere between Ogalalla, Nebraska and Raton, New Mexico, we're cruising down the road, and I hear 16" from behind me, what I think Max says, "Shit." Almost in a whisper.
I turn to Ricardo, explain what I think I just heard. Perhaps he said "Ship" just one word like that. Maybe it was in a movie, because my baby would not say "shit". No he wouldn't. No he wouldn't. No he wouldn't! Ricardo suggests we'll just play it out and see if that's what he said or not. Just no worries. Seriously, Leslie. Calm the eff down. I have ruined my son's life with my shit-for-brains-trash-talk. I should wash my mouth out. I'm not fit to be a mother. I don't care if I use the F-word so cleverly. This is awful. AWFUL, I SAY! I've ruined him. But I've been so careful. I've had kid-dar. What the HELL HAPPENED!? About 2 minutes pass by. I'm still chanting to myself, "It was ship. It had to be ship. Calm down Leslie. Calm down Les..."
And then, very quitely Max, "Mom, Dad, what does S-H-I-T mean?"
He did say it! OMG! DAMMIT! UGGH!
"It's a very very inappropriate word for poop, hunny."
Pause. Pause. Pause.
"Uh, where did you hear that word sweetie?"
Please God, don't let it be me. Please don't let it be from that 1980's weed smoking campaign. Please don't let it be, "I LEARNED IT FROM YOU, MOM! I LEARNED IT FROM YOU!" Please God, seriously, don't let it be....
"Chase says it at school sometimes.
Oh thank you sweet baby Jesus. I've never been more relieved that a kid was cussing in school in all my life. This is the greatest news ever. God Bless Chase!
"Okay sweetie, well, it's not okay for Chase to say that. And you shouldn't use that word either okay? It's a very naughty word. If you said that at school and a teacher heard you, you'd probably go to the principal. It's that bad."
Lucy intervenes, "No, Mom. First you go to the Safe Seat, then if that doesn't work out, you go to another teacher's Safe Seat. Then if that doesn't work out, you miss recess and when recess is over, you have to sit back in the Safe Seat, and then after all that, then you go to the principal."
"Okay, that's good to know, Lucy. Max, my point is, just don't say it. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Lucy, you don't say it either. Okay?"
Pause.
"LUCY!"
"Okay, okay!"
Ricardo and I give each other a mental high-five and then share the silent and somewhat invisible giggle. You know, the one you try to hide from your kids. Ours were back to being enthralled in their movie. So, we were pretty in the clear.
"Mom, what does a-bomb-able mean?"
"Do you mean, abominable? Wow, I never thought of that. Uh, well...."
Then Ricardo explained it. He knew I was still recovering from some other shit.
That's how I roll.
momontherocks-
you just blogged about the true reason we do insane roadtrips with our kids... some of the best learning occurs during those endless hours together rolling down the highway!!!
How did Lucy know the punishment for saying "shit"?
You crack me up... I'm afraid my son might be Chase at his school.
Good question. I don't think the retort was in direct response to the word itself. She just knows the protocol for getting in trouble. Not because she gets in trouble, but more because she's all up in people's bidnez, so she knows from watching others get in trouble. So far, atleast.