It made me remember an event when I was in junior high.
After school one day I went to the market where I normally went for a snack on the way home and was browsing the magazines when this little tyke, maybe 4 or 5, came over to where I was standing and yelled at me, “Shut up you big goddammit!” I had said or done nothing to provoke the kid, and as best I could tell he was there by himself.
I laughed all the way home and even now I laugh to think of it. I had to wonder what his mother or father (or somebody else he would have overheard) had said and in what context for him to think that was something to scream at some total stranger only a few years older than himself.
I thought the whole idea deserved a thread, so here it is.
My best friend’s sister runs a day care; she was taken aback the other day when one of the kids started talking about “A Friggin’ Elephant”…otherwise known as an African Elephant.
My friend was at the market with his daughter and she was riding in the cart. As they went down one aisle, the girl saw some giant bags of bright yellow popcorn. She started yelling, “Cockporn! I want cockporn!!” :eek:
Kind of a bigger kid involved, but it’s a fond memory…
Hiking in the woods one day with the Boy Scout Troop (early 60’s), one of the younger kids stubbed his toe HARD on a solidly embedded rock in the trail. He whipped around, kicked the offending stone with his good foot, and uttered the curse which I’ve remembered all my life:
The day after my father came into the house complaining about the painters he had hired, my 4 year old brother went out and greeted them by saying “Good morning you god-damned painters!”.
Not foul language, but when I was about 7 or 8, I saw my first live pro baseball game. It was a Phillies game, and Ozzie Virgil hit a grand slam. Later, when describing the game to my grandfather, I told him about the grand slam by Ozzie Virgin. It was years before I knew why they laughed so much…
My little sister at about 8 years old suddenly proclaimed, “I wish a boy would give me a pearl necklace!” It was vaguely linked to my mother and grandmother’s conversation about buying jewelry. It took me another couple of years before I heard the slang that made my mother and grandmother crack up.
Around the second year I was in Japan, a buddy who taught at a middle school related how one of his students saw him pull up in the parking lot, poked his head out the 3rd floor window and yelled, “Shit. Balls.” with a big smile on his face, then pulled back inside and ran down the hall.
My mom’s never been comfortable using a clutch, so her car was always an automatic. My dad had a manual Beetle, and usually never the twain met. The fateful day came when Dad wound up needing a bigger car for a work trip, and commandeered Mom’s station wagon.
A few days beforehand, he took her out to drive his car in case anything came up with my just-beginning-to-talk brother. Right before he left Mom stocked up on everything, hoping she wouldn’t have to drive much while he was gone.
Naturally, something came up, so off we all went. And from the backseat, my brother was piping up, “Goddammit, Charlee, more gas!”
My dad loved to tell this story. We had a VW Beetle when I was little. Once upon a time my older sister (age 5 or so) and I (age 3 or so) were going somewhere in the Bug with him. We both tried to get in the front seat and he told us one of us would have to get in the Godamned back seat. I told him very seriously the I would get in the Godamned back seat. He laughed so hard he forgot about being mad.
My four year old likes playing around with words and spoonerising and so on as much as most kids that age do, I guess.
Last week he was rhyming nonsense words with “ducky” and giggling for some reason. So it was mucky ducky and wucky ducky and of course, inevitably he reached “fucky ducky”. So he was wandering about the holiday apartment we were staying in (with open doors leading on to a shared pool/deck area) , yelling “fucky ducky” and then laughing, at the top of his voice.
Mrs P and I tried desperately to keep straight faces (laughing would have made him do it more). We didn’t know whether to pursue the strategy of ignoring him and waiting for him to move on, or telling him to stop. In the end when we had managed to get a control of ourselves and keep serious faces we told him he shouldn’t say that one. Luckily for once he didn’t argue and just said, “Oh, OK” and went on to Gucky Ducky or some damn thing.
When I was very young boy, I was getting curious about the difference between boys and girls. Dad told me that boys have penises and girls have a “vagina”.
Naturally the next day I asked my mother if she was “made in China”
My littlest (~2 years old at the time) had trouble pronouncing the “tr” sound. So we were treated to a few weeks of “Fuck. BIG Fuck” whenever we saw a semi. My husband was away on business when she first started doing this. He was at home for dinner when he heard her talking about the “fuck”. His face. Too funny.:eek:
This was followed by months of “Suck. Big SUCK.” I miss those days. My older daughter’s mispronunciations were never that funny.
My SIL’s parents are of the painfully religious kind, and indoctrinate my 4-year-old nephew at any opportunity. Thankfully, he knows that “Cheeses” loves him.
My niece was about 4 or 5 when she told me her then-favorite knock-knock joke:
Knock knock!
Who’s there?
Olive.
Olive who?
Olive you!
Then, as little kids tend to be silly, she started changing “olive” to other random words, even though the joke no longer made sense. “Apple who?” “Apple you!” and so forth. Finally, she came up with “duck” and the way she shouted “Duck You!” left everybody in tears with laughter.
I think the statute of limitations has run out since I last shared this one:
My son, 2, I think, a not very verbal yet, was riding in the backseat when we got hit by a car running a red light. I saw what was going to happen in that time-slows-down kind of way, but couldn’t evade her, and said, “Oh…FUCK!” just once before she hit us.
Either my time sense remained skewed or there was a cop watching the whole thing, because the very next thing I remember is the cop helping my son out of his carseat, while the sweet cherub chirped at him, “Fuck? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, oh fuck!”
“Happens all the time, ma’am,” the stonefaced cop said with a twinkling eye.
Since, in my previous post, I forgot this thread is about ‘naughty’ language, my apology takes it’s form in the following:
Babysitting the aforementioned nephew (then aged three) who decided he wasn’t going to go to bed. At the stalemate, he stood up, with and hands on hips and all the frustration he could muster he said, “YOU are a bastard arse. And don’t say time for bed, because I NOT. I will tell my daddy you are a bastard arse and he won’t like you too!”
My older daughter’s mispronunciations were never that funny.