Mom found out because while you were listening to Pandora, you told her you heard a swear in a song. Pretty sure you hadn’t, she asked you to whisper it to her. You whispered the F-bomb in her ear. Flustered, she just said “OK,” and turned the music off. Mom is rarely at a loss for words so I’m kinda sad I missed this.
Later that day, we hung out on what is currently my favorite Ari-Daddy day ever. While taking our friends Betsy and Chris to the airport, Mom left you with me while I was at work. The office was dead because it was the day before New Years Eve, 2013. We got frozen yogurt, I showed you my work space and then we played chess together in the seventh floor lounge–coolest thing about that: we were both fuzzy on the rules (you because you just learned it and I because I hadn’t played it in decades,) but we were able to teach each other what we remembered.
While we were eating ice cream, you told me about what happened with your mom and the F-word Pandora incident.
“Who taught you that word?” I asked.
“Samantha. She whispered it to me once, ” you said.
Ah well. About six months ago, you told me you knew two swears. I asked “which ones?”
“The S word, and the D word,” you said. After some coaxing, I learned you meant “Stupid,” and “Dumb.” Isn’t that awesome? I hope you don’t grow up feeling like we overly sheltered you. I can say from personal experience, that I was exposed to a little too much growing up and I didn’t want that for you.
The preservation of innocence in our kids may well be selfish–I have no idea, but the impulse is strong. Regardless, I’m going to try really hard not to be overly attached to your innocence as it drifts away stage by stage.
Once when you were about 3, I said something about how sad it will be when you grow up and you’re not my baby anymore. You looked puzzled. “But I’ll still be your daughter, Daddy,” you said.