The f-word has been the beginning of some really great conversations in our family.
For instance, travel back in time with me to when our 21 year old was a sweet six year old.
First day of grade 1 -
Him: Mum, the teacher told us today that we aren’t allowed to say the f-word.
Me: Is that so? And what word is that, exactly?
Him (in a very low whisper): Fat.
Travel back with me to about eight months ago and join me in the luggage department of Myer.
Eight year old daughter: F*** it.
Me: (too hysterically laughing to respond, walks away to leave husband to deal with it)
Fast forward again to yesterday.
Same eight year old now famous for all the wrong reasons in Myer: Someone got a detention today for saying a bad swear word.
Me: Oh really? Who and what word?
Her: [name of child has been withheld in the name of I-need-to-still-be-accepted-in-the-school-carpark] _________and for the word that ends in ‘k’.
Me: Ooooooh, that IS a bad swear word.
Her: Ah uh! (thoughtful pause) Does it start with ph or f?
Me: F. Why? You don’t need to know how to spell it!
Her: No, but I do need to know whether I should say the f-word or the ph-word and not call it ‘the word that ends in ‘k”.
Like I said, the f-word has sure started some really great conversations in our family