Crap And Other Privileges
My
one-month-shy-of-eight year old is now, on occasion, allowed to say
“crap”. My husband and I talked about it. She’s always been very
good about not ever swearing. She’s fully respected our rule about it.
Even though we do swear around her, sometimes a wee bit more than I’d
like, depending on the situation. But if you think about it, she lives
with three adults. There are bound to be times when she hears less than
savory language.
Every once in a
long while, over the past year, if she pulled a heavy toe-stub or had a
big bag of garbage split halfway between here and the curb, I’d let
her know it was ok, just once, to swear. She usually chose “crap”.
Once she chose the lowest form of “crap”, but we don’t talk about
that.
Because she has
shown this level of respect for her dad’s and my rules, she’s earned
the right to judge the moment when “crap” is appropriate. You have
to picture this.
“Honey, we
really think “crap” is ok. We think you’ve earned the right to
decide when to say it.”
(eyes look
puzzled)
“You mean I
can say …(pondering look)…(sudden awareness)…(evil grin)….crap?
”
(daddy trying
to hide amusement)
“But Honey,
we expect you to not overuse it and be a very grown up young lady when
choosing to use it.”
(not paying
attention…pondering anew, the multiple uses for “crap”)
“Listen
sweetie, Daddy and I expect you to be responsible. If you abuse it, you
won’t be allowed to use it again until you prove you’re
responsible.”
“Ok Mommy.
Can I say it now?”
“Do you have
a reason to say it now?”
(truly puzzled
look)
“Don’t I
get to try it out? Like
when the monsters in Diablo II (current family video craze) drop stuff I
can’t use, is it …CRAP?”
(mommy
collapsing on the sofa, snorting hysterically)
(daddy takes
over)
“Ok, you said
it once. Enough ok?”
“But Daddy,
that doesn’t count. I wasn’t ready. I want to be ready.”
(renewed snorts
of laughter from the sofa)
(daddy takes
the easy way out)
“Let’s get
it over with then. Say it. Go ahead.”
(grin and a
mustering of child courage, not actually believing this freedom)
(bigger grin)
“Crap.”
“Ok Honey,
that’s enough. Just remember what we said.”
“Ok Daddy.”
She ran and
told her sister about her new privilege. I can imagine it got a pretty
big laugh. But her sister would recover her composure in time to
congratulate the “crap” kid on her latest responsible achievement.
She was raised by me. She knows the score.
Do we ever know
if we’ve made the right choices in our parenting methods? I only have
experience to go on. I allowed my eldest certain freedoms at certain
ages. She never broke curfew, didn’t insist on weird changes to her
appearance and respects me. What more could a parent ask?
I returned to
work at the computer and my husband sat down to watch a movie. Ten
minutes later she’s watching as her sister’s boyfriend battled
monsters in Diablo. The main bad guy dropped nothing.
“See, he
never drops anything good. Just….junk.”
Sometimes being
free to do something means you choose not to. I’ll keep you posted.
_____________________
Copyright 2002 – Satiric Quill
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