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What The Fwuck?!!

12 Aug

How did this happen?! I am on the train with my sweet and innocent little one and a half year old Boy and he starts shrieking at the top of his lungs “Fwuck Mama! Fwuck! FWUCK!!!” Holy Moly, how the hecking heck did this happen?! O the embarrassment! O the instant recriminations towards the absent Scrooge (despite the fact that I am the bigger potty-mouth of us).

Within seconds I am cringing with embarrassment and unsuccessfully trying a combination of covering his mouth and loud “Shuuuush!!”ing. To no avail. If anything the “Fwuck”ing gets louder and horror! He starts to drop the “w”!

And then the realisation: Fwuck = Truck. This is a relief, but not a great one since no-one else realises it, and a train full of people are silently castigating my parenting, and soon they are joined by everyone in the CBD as he loudly rejoices in every “Fwuck!” we pass.  And there are a frick-load of delivery fwucks in the CBD.

McScrooge almost swallowed his tongue when Boy greeted his arrival home that evening with a long and mostly incomprehensible monologue about “Fwucks”.

It is both hilarious and horrifying and three days later Boy still shows no signs of abatement, despite long and clear coaching of the “TR” sounds. He says “TRain” and “TRack” very clearly and wonderfully, and “Fwuck” very clearly too. About the only progress is that more often than not the “w” is being dropped. And let me just mention here that Boy is OBSESSED with fwucks.

I have to admit, though, to indulging in more than a snigger when McScrooge, Girl and Boy came home from Church this morning and said that Boy called out very loudly and clearly: “Fwuck! FWUUUUUUUUCK!” through the service. I have never been 4more relieved to be a heathen and to get to sleep in every Sunday morning.