Closing the front door behind me, I breathed a silent sigh. I had reached the end of my workday. From the kitchen, I could hear the voices of my wife and youngest daughter wafting into the entryway in which I stood. Quickly, I removed my shoes, hung my coat in the closet, and shuffled into the kitchen. With my oldest daughters not home from school just yet, I wanted to soak up a few minutes with just my youngest (now 3.5 years old).
“Hey, baby!” I chirped happily. Leaning against our kitchen counters, my wife held our sweet cherub in her arms. I thought about how sweet and innocent my little one looked. “How was school today?” I asked, kissing the top of her head.
With deadpan seriousness, she responded, “Mark and Chris said ‘sh–‘ today.”
Wait, what did she just say? Did I hear that correctly? Yes, I’m pretty sure I did, I thought. The digraph and closed syllable were quite clear. My wife and I made eye contact, and I could spot the laughter welling up in her visage. I felt it, too. Contain it, I thought. Remain calm.
Then it came again, “Yeah, Mark and Chris said ‘sh–‘.” Again, clear as a bell.
My mind raced, working to form a response. I needed to strike a tone of casual disdain for such language used in preschool, but not overreact. So, “Oh my gosh! You’re kidding?! That’s terrible!” was definitely out. I couldn’t say that. I also found myself desperately fighting the urge to laugh hysterically, which could send another unintended message that swearing is funny. Couldn’t do that either.
“Hmm…” I said.
* The names of the pre-school offenders have been changed in this story to protect the innocent.
I have had so many times (as both a parent and teacher) when I was in that place between shock and hysterical laughter. It’s such a strange place to be…trying to be serious, but feeling the laughter well up inside. I love the way you leave us hanging in this post. By the way, what did you say/do? What did the kids at preschool really say?
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Ha! I just kind of moved on to other topics. My big goal was to not make a big deal of it. I think I probably said something like “that’s not a nice word,” and left it at that. Thanks for commenting 🙂
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So funny! As a preschool teacher, I can definitely relate to this story. It sounds like there was a BIG reaction at school…and I have learned it is better to do just as you did, to be as nonplus and ordinary in response as I possibly can be. Here’s to all the new vocabulary your daughter is learning!!
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Yep, there are going to be more of those stories. “I see” is also a good response, as is “tell me more.” Wait until she brings home vocabulary that YOU have to look up– that will happen, too. You captured a great moment, Lanny. Love the blending of a literacy specialist with being a dad.
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Hysterical! You captured the moment beautifully – nice and slow, in and out of your mind. A moment many of us can relate to as parents and as teachers! Thanks for the lunchtime laugh!
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Long before I had children, one of my favourite parents ever told me, “One of the hardest parts of being a parent is not laughing when you’re not supposed to.” I nodded and smiled then, too young to appreciate her words of wisdom, but now I know that I was in the presence of a true parenting sage. This post made me giggle – glad you managed to contain your own guffaw.
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My five year old has been experimenting with “shut up” recently. It has helped with her spelling… she now knows sh makes the sh sound. Kids do say the darndest things!
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