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We see the final battle between the new gods and the old gods, and Kate and Daniel are trying to keep their secrets hidden, or they risk losing all their allies.
I’ve been meaning to tell this story for 11 months. I’ve told it at parties but never written it down. If this blog lasts till the Pink Tornado is old enough to be embarrassed by me, well, sorry, honey.
Last August, we were at the Outer Banks, NC, way north of Duck on an island accessible only by driving for 45 min on the beach. This is what SUVs are for (interestingly, the contract for the SUV we rented said we were not allowed to take it off road. Sport utility indeed. Shh. And no, my RAV4 is too low for beach driving.) We were in a remote beach house with pool, a canal, and wild horses. It was grand.
It was a lazy afternoon. Jim was outside in the pool, and our friends Jason, Ryn, and Ryn’s brother were in the dining room planning a grocery list. PT and I were playing Boom Blox on the Wii. We were into an intense competitive match, throwing balls at each others’ castles to try to knock them down. She was getting into the game and really competitive. She tossed a ball at my castle, knocked down a tower, the got off the couch and screamed in triumph:
“NO ONE FUCKS MY CASTLE!”
The child has sworn before, usually in clear imitation. When she was a toddler, she used to think one played PlayStation 2 games by moving the joystick and muttering “dammit.” Whoops.
But this was new.
Our friends, clearly within earshot, didn’t say anything. I thought they was stifling their giggles. I thought fast.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
She looked down at me as if I had to be stupid to have missed it. “No one fucks my castle.”
“OK, I think the word you’re looking for is ‘attacks.’”
“Oh.” She looked from me back to the TV, and got enraged again. “NO ONE ATTACKS MY CASTLE!”
“There you go!”
The folks in the dining room claim the did not react becase they did not hear it. Jim was outside and missed the whole thing. I was the only witness to perhaps the greatest F bomb ever.
She hasn’t said it since.
I should have recorded it.
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13 Responses to Baby's First F Bomb
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Totally priceless. Can we make t-shirts out of it? On the front, “No one fucks my castle!” On the back, “That’s what she said.”
I’d buy that t-shirt…I don’t think I could wear it…but I’d buy it. Thanks for answering my question on the podcast by the way.
I also throw my support behind the t-shirt idea.
that’s a great story Mur. Makes me glad I’m back..
At least she got it right. My brother picked it up from kids at school with strong South London accents – got himself in trouble for shouting ‘fack off!’
Good job Mur. You kept your cool. Great parenting.
I couldn’t wear a shirt like that very often on account of working in a school, but I’d buy it. I’d buy the hell out of it. There would be no hell left in that shirt after I was done with it – I’d buy it all out.
Or something.
The graphic would have to be a very angry little girl standing in front of a castle.
Once, shortly after my daughter started talking, she was trying to pull her dress over her head. After trying and realizing she couldn’t, she dropped her shoulders, sighed, looked at me and said “fffffuck”.
I had to run out of the room to laugh.
hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. I love that kid.
I’m still hoping to get my 2-year-old daughter on video singing some swearwords… after all, Bad Bad Leroy Brown is the baddest man in the whole damn town! (She also knows from Billy Joel that “you Cath-o-lic girls start much too late.” Ooops.)
Heh. I’m still struggling over the fact that all three of my boys (ages 9, 11, and 14) have grown up with a father who gigs 3 times a month with an 80′s metal band. It still makes me cringe to hear my children singing “She’s my cherry pie” or “Lick it up!” And worse, the lyrics to Rocks you like a hurricane! …I can’t even type the lyrics for embarassment. Sigh.
My oldest kid’s first decipherable word was a quiet, mumbled, “goddamnit” when she dropped a toy when she was about a year and a half. I laughed my ass off, told my parents, and they laughed their ass off too. About a year ago, we were talking about something (she just turned six) and looked at me and said, “what the fuck mama?” I said, “what did you say?” (trying not to laugh). She looked at me like I was stupid, and repeated, with more feeling this time, “I SAID, what the FUCK mama?” I was almost surprised she didn’t add, “did I stutter mother fucker?”
I’m so down with the t-shirt idea with the graphic of a little girl glaring over a castle. Maybe with her arms crossed.
In our house it was the day I was driving somewhere, got cut off, managed to not say anything, and settled for a well placed avian gesture. From the backseat issues an emphatic “CUNT!”. I had nowhere to run so that I could laugh.