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Monday, 4 July 2011

It wasn't me, I swear!

The first time Isla swore, we were carrying out one of our favourite past times - hunt for Monkey. I was rummaging through yet another bag and said, 'well he must be somewhere' to which she replied, 'oh for f**k's sake!'
'What did you just say?'
'F**'s sake mummy, say 'f**'s sake', she said very matter of factly.
I told her she should never say that word and was straight on the phone to her Dad to lecture him about curbing his language in front of her. Not surprisingly, he sniggered like a naughty school boy while I had visions of her being the first kid in nursery with an Asbo.

A few weeks later, again having spent a day with Daddy, Isla was getting frustrated trying to do some colouring and out it came again. Same phrase, exactly the right context, perfect intonation. Me back on the phone to Daddy rapidly losing my humour.

Several months passed and that was one chapter in our lives that I hoped was well behind us when just the other day Isla dropped some food on the floor. 'F**k it', she said. Oh my God, will this man never learn? I thought.
'Where did you here that darling?'
'You said it mummy!'
And then I remembered, a few days earlier, I'd locked myself out the house and as we stood outside in the rain with me peering through the letterbox at my handbag and all my worldly possessions inside, just about every possible expletive known to man tumbled from my mouth. Isla kept on saying, 'Mummy sad' and I didn't think anything more of it. Little did I know that her little sponge brain was rapidly soaking up all the words to save for a special occasion. So now I live in fear of the diary entry from nursery - "Isla has been using some colourful language today which she said Mummy taught her and which she is now teaching her friends". I'm thinking maybe I could get away with telling them that her great, great grandfather suffered from Tourettes.

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