I recently heard Tommy say “For fucking sake” while stomping around his bedroom angrily searching for his gloves. This is not good. Tommy is four and a half.
He knows full well that French swear words are not allowed and he frequently reminds L’Homme, “Daddy, tu ne peut PAS dire putain”, but we haven’t touched on English swear words, partly because I rarely use them. Not in front of him at least. Or so I thought. If he has picked up “fucking” and “sake” then it’s clearly from me as I am his only regular source of English. And there I was, oh so proud of the fact his English is so polite and impeccable. I have eaten my words, or rather, I wish I had. I have since explained that he can’t say “fucking sake” even if everyone around him is French and probably won’t pick it up.
“Can say Jeesis Christ?”
“Er … no, no you can’t.”
“Can say bwuddy yell?”
“Bwuddy what? Oh. Oh, no you can’t say that either.”
“Me can say what?”
“Well you don’t have to say anything. If you’re angry, you can just be angry without saying naughty words.”
Tommy just looked at me. I realised I am not setting the best example in the world.