God Forsake Bibs
Our family spent 15 minutes after dinner last night coming up with disgusting flavors of ice cream. This was based on the legendary schoolyard game that begins with one person saying "I one the sandbox,' and the next person saying "I two the sandbox," and so on, until someone says, "I eight the sandbox," and then everyone says, "you ATE the sandbox? Why did you do that?"
So after dinner, Elijah said, "I one the ice cream." Regina took the bait, and went, "I two the ice cream." I stayed out of the game, so when Regina said, "I eight the ice cream," Elijah replied:
"It was poo-poo ice cream."
"EWWWWWWWW! Poo-poo ice cream!" said my son's mother.
From there, it was a short step to such flavors as Pus, Booger, Pee-pee, Teacake Chunk, and Daddy's Farts. The game went on too long, as such games tend to do, but it brought the topic of profanity to mind. I realized that Elijah, despite his over-reliance on potty humor for cheap laughs (something I would never consider myself), doesn't actually use much profanity.
My friend Tanya Schevitz, who I know from a secret Jewish cabal that meets once a year in the mountains of Utah, came to mind. Tanya takes my alternaparent leanings and goes full bore with them. Her son doesn't just like Johnny Cash. He's actually named Cash, and his middle name is Coltrane. Apparently, he also has a filthy mouth. According to this controversial entry that Tanya wrote for The Poop, The San Francisco Chronicle's parenting blog, Cash once called his grandmother a "fucking old teapot." Elijah's worst sin, on the other hand, is that he once called Regina a "pain in the ass," which we quickly squelched even though he was speaking the truth.
It probably won't surprise the two dozen frequent readers of this space that Elijah tends to make up his own profanity. Recently, I heard something crash in his room. Then I heard this exclamation:
"God forbid sakes!"
I went to the crime scene.
"What did you just say?"
He grinned.
"God forbid sakes!" he repeated.
"Oh."
Then he said:
"God forsake bibs!"
"Wow."
"Daddy, is that a naughty word?"
"Oh, yes," I said. "Very naughty."
"God forsake bibs!" he said again. "God forsake bibs! God forsake bibs!"
You know, just once, and I really mean just once, I'd like to hear my kid say something normal. Bibs. Why hath God forsaken you?