ducking sail

When there’s kids around, at least then, one avoids swearing, you learn this is essential the hard way once your own kids start talking. T was around three when she realized that repeating the sound “f*ck”  will have an immediate effect.

My better half was probably glad we were living in a german speaking area back then, when one afternoon she and T went on a train together. Standing in a packed compartment the wee fun’ster suddenly started happyly singing a cheerful melody to “f*ck f*ck, f**ck, e.g.), dancing and smiling brightly.

I was impressed the other day, when the now four year-old stood before me, big grin on her face, exclaiming “ducking sail! ducking ducking sail!” loudly and clearly.  I immediately understood what she was doing, saying, what she deffinitely was not supposed to say with a good attempt at art-language. I hope the brief half-approving smile which I couldn’t avoid giving, told her that I’m proud but still please, please speak nicely.

With language talent like that it won’t be long until situations like the other day will lead to different conclusions: We were out giving her 2-day old birthday-bike a go. We loitered on a long straight stretch peacefully, when suddenly a rather large and very loud dog appeared from behind, it’s owner running up, shouting “STOP F*CKING BARKING!”, which it eventually did. When they had passed, T. said “Papa, der Hund heisst Fuken-Barkin!” (“Papa, that dog is called fooken barkin!”).

dogwalk

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