The Joy of Making Your Kid Say a Bad Word

Ah, parenthood. It's kind of like bowling.

Let me explain.

Last week, I was driving in the van with some of the kids. My 9-year-olds, I believe. The dvd player was on. "The Cat in the Hat". Actually a reasonably funny movie, as long as you consider it more like a parody of the original books rather than an adaptation. But I digress.

In any case, I hear the following sequence in the movie, which I always enjoyed. The Cat is showing his fancy car to the two kids. Here's how it goes:

The Cat: [showing his car] Here she is, the Super Luxurious Omnidirectional Whatchamajigger, or S-L-O-W for short.

Sally: S-L-O-W?

The Cat: Yeah, S.L.O.W. It's better than the last thing we had: Super Hydraulic Instantaneous Transporter.

Conrad: Oh, you mean...

The Cat: NO! Quick! To the S.L.O.W.!

That joke always got a chuckle from me. But not, I noticed, from the kids. I suspect they didn't really get it. So I spell it out for them.

"Do you guys understand this joke? Think about it. The first letters in the name of the cat's car spell S-L-O-W. Slow."

"But then he tells the kids that it's better than the first name: the super hydraulic instantaneous transporter. What do the first letters of those words make?"

My 9-year-old son processes. I can hear the wheels turning. Then, as soon as the letters form a word in his brain, although he doesn't yet realize what it is he's about to say, he blurts out:

"SH*T!!"

To which I immediately reply, doing my best not to smile:

"Oh my goodness! You *know* that word's not appropriate! You are *so* grounded!!!!!"

"Daaaaaa-aaad!"


...

Yup, parenthood. Kind of like bowling.

You set them up, just to knock them down.

Wink.