Mother Trucker

When I am in the car I try to engage the kids in some sort of game. In the mornings when I am driving Sophie to daycare, we look for different things. This game started before she could talk by me pointing out the window at things she could see. “Look Soph, there is a truck,” school bus, red stop sign or green traffic light, while pointing out the window. You know, those perfect teaching moments. Little did I know that I was teaching my angelic little girl to talk like a truck driver!



“Mommy, f**k,” Soph screams while pointing to a truck on the road. I never knew how many “f**ks” were out there. This causes a big belly laugh from me and if you ever want to reinforce negative behavior, then laugh hysterically. She became our circus act, I say to Sue’s brother, “Jeff ask Soph what that is, while pointing to a truck?” He does and she yells and giggles, “F**k!”



All this laughter grabs Luke’s attention and now he too is yelling and giggling “F**k,” from the back of my minivan. It is still innocent because he does not know why it is funny, he just knows from our reaction. We have tried to stop laughing and now just calmly correct both of them when they say it, and for the most part Luke has been corrected and Soph still just mispronounces it, until yesterday after work, she pointed to a truck and said, “Truck.” Is it wrong to feel a little sad?