There’s something a bit unsettling about hearing your young child declare he’ll “lick your boom-boom down.” I tend to give my son a fair amount of freedom regarding what he views on YouTube. When he stumbled upon Justin Timberlake and Jimmy Fallon’s “The History of Rap Part 6” from The Tonight Show, I was thrilled, as a lifelong JT fan, to see him enjoying something from my favorite artist. He quickly became obsessed with the video, and at first, he couldn’t really understand or repeat most of the lyrics, so I didn’t think much of it.
As he began to pick up the lyrics, I found it charming. He’d grab his makeshift microphone and belt out “Fight for Your Right” by the Beastie Boys. Hearing him attempt to sing along to Snow’s “Informer” and R. Kelly’s “Ignition” was a riot. I often joined him, playing the role of Jimmy to his Justin. Since it was a televised performance, I assumed everything was fairly family-friendly. Yet, listening to him sing lyrics that likely leave many parents gasping only reinforced my understanding that swearing and “bad language” don’t particularly faze me.
I must admit, I find toddlers swearing to be quite amusing. When a friend’s daughter went through a phase of using colorful language, I couldn’t help but laugh every time. I always knew that if I had a child who swore, I’d struggle to maintain my composure. I’m generally a firm disciplinarian, but in this instance, I would be like Cam from Modern Family, cracking up at every word my son uttered. I knew I wouldn’t be upset, especially if he used the words appropriately.
I do use some swear words in my daily life, having started as a teenager. My parents emphasized avoiding such language, but that only made me more inclined to swear when I reached middle school. I once slipped up and said “shit” while chatting with a friend on the phone and lied to my dad about it. Though I’ve moderated my language as I’ve matured, there are moments when you just need to exclaim, “fuck this shit” for emphasis. I didn’t completely eliminate swearing from my vocabulary as my son began to grasp language, but I did cut back. While I personally don’t mind, I understand that others might not appreciate a toddler shouting “shit.”
In my view, there’s no need to censor what my child hears. He will encounter the real world without me, and people will undoubtedly say things. I’ve noticed very young kids using such language, and I don’t want my son to be shocked by it, as if it’s the worst thing imaginable; there are far more serious issues out there. I recall wanting a CD as a tween but being unable to get it due to its parental advisory label, even though my mom had previously gifted me Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill, which had explicit lyrics. The irony was not lost on me when she was horrified by the lyrics of “Barbie Girl,” yet didn’t mind me watching soap operas with her.
I also dislike the idea of Kidz Bop albums that sanitize songs not meant for children when they could simply listen to the original versions on the radio. Plus, those versions often make my ears bleed. Recently, a study suggested that swearing might indicate higher intelligence. While I’m not here to brag about my smarts, I completely agree. I can articulate my thoughts compellingly and tell someone to go fuck themselves when necessary. It’s not a matter of one or the other; using colorful language doesn’t diminish my intellect. In fact, placing a curse word effectively may require more skill.
Swearing can be an art form; the ability to incorporate it naturally into conversation is a talent. Look at how Samuel L. Jackson flawlessly integrates words like “fuck” and “motherfucker” into sentences, presenting them as elegantly as more sophisticated vocabulary. It’s a skill, folks.
A few months ago, I heard my son exclaim, “What the hell is that?” as he rummaged through a drawer and discovered some hidden candy. His delivery was so casual that I initially questioned whether I heard him correctly. It wasn’t until he repeated the phrase weeks later that I was certain. I didn’t react with anger or punishment; instead, I calmly explained that some people find that word inappropriate and that he should only use it around me. He seemed to grasp the message and hasn’t used it since, but if he does, I won’t make a big deal out of it.
I’ll continue to let him enjoy his favorite “History of Rap” video and likely chuckle a bit more than I should when he uses inappropriate language. I genuinely don’t believe this will harm him in any way. He will always understand that there’s a time and place for swearing, and for now, it’s just with me.
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Summary
The author reflects on their toddler’s use of profanity, sharing personal anecdotes and thoughts on swearing. They convey that while they find humor in their child’s language, they also recognize the importance of context in using such words. They choose not to censor their child excessively, believing that exposure to real-world language prepares them for social experiences.