Watch what you say?

In addition to thinking about how our lives are going to change in the immediate aftermath of having a baby, I have also started contemplating what it's going to be like when our child (and future children) becomes an actual person and we have to try to shape his future behavior.

I have been thinking about what we want to teach our child - which things are important, and which really aren't.

For example: I find cursing to be perfectly acceptable. I curse slightly less than the cast of Deadwood, and I have absolutely no problem with profanity being used in any social setting. Yet seemingly, once our son reaches an age where he can parrot back the words we use, I'm going to have to start watching my language, right?

I'm not stupid; I understand why, from a social standpoint, it isn't wise to allow your six-year old to drop F-bombs with impunity. But I don't like having to pretend something is bad when I myself believe otherwise. To me, cursing is not like alcohol or drugs - there is no danger of physical harm when used improperly or in excess.

This came up the other night in a discussion at a friend's house, when I was announcing my intention that from now on, the popular new children's book Go The F@#$ To Sleep would be my baby gift of choice*.

*I'm totally serious. Any of my friends and family expecting a baby in the future, you can also expect this tome in the mail shortly. No thank you note required.

My friend maintained that she would never read that book to her child, no matter his age, whereas I would not only read it, I would relish reading it. It's amusing! He'll never know the difference, so what does it matter? I could read him Penthouse Forum letters as an infant, and as long as it helps lull him to sleep I'd consider it fair game.

Then again, maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way. Maybe curse words are wonderful precisely because they are illicit:



If our son never learns these words are any different, maybe he will be denied a helpful tool in his communicative box. Plus, I'd hate to deprive him of a watershed moment of his childhood - the first time you remember hearing your parents swear**.


We were in Long Beach, MS, for a friend's bar mitzvah. The hotel we were staying at was also hosting a high school math competition, which meant tons of high school students looking for mischief. At around 3:00 in the morning the phone rang, which my mom answered wearily. To the best of my recollection, this was the conversation:

Mom: "Hello?"
Caller: "Do you have any potato chips?"
Mom: "What?"
Caller: "Do you have any potato chips**?"
Mom: FUCK you. (Slams phone)

This was roughly my reaction. 

And by the way, potato chips? I guess that's what passes for a prank call at a high school math convention.

I love that memory. I cherish the fuck out of that memory. Who am I to deprive my son that kind of momentous occasion***?

*** If I had to wager, I'd say his first memory of foul language will come either from watching sports with his papa or (more likely) driving in traffic with his mama.

Regardless of the relative merit of individual terms, what I most want to instill in our son is that while words are important, it's the meaning behind them that matters much, much more.

And as long as he knows that, I'm content to allow him to exercise his first amendment rights.