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.
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:
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!!!!!"
Yup, parenthood. Kind of like bowling.
You set them up, just to knock them down.