The worst word in the world

Our family is pretty free with the eff word. We don't use it every day -- not even every week -- but once a month or so, someone will hit their thumb with a hammer, or drop some toast on the kitchen floor, and let it fly.

I have mixed feelings about this -- on the one hand, it's a very useful word to know, as it expands the conversational range if you know how to use it appropriately. But on the other hand, there's a chance you'll actually offend someone if they're uncomfortable with hearing the word. Or that you'll have to do 30 pushups at the gym if it slips out under duress. And there's a very good chance you'll earn the disapproval of the PTA moms if they find out, even if you're self-deprecating about it.

The earliest I remember Nathan saying the eff word was while he and Adrian were sitting at our old kitchen counter at Ethel Ave. That would make Nathan not quite two, and Adrian was almost four. I had prepared bagels with cream cheese, and as I was placing Nathan's plate on the counter in front of him, the bagel slipped off. Predictably, it fell cream-cheese-side-down on the linoleum. "F***," said Nathan, looking down at the bagel. Couldn't have said it better myself. I didn't have a strong reaction to the word, assuming that the more I made of it, the more it would be heard.

Flash forward half a year. The boys and I were at our favorite joint, M&G Burgers. Nathan (2-and-a-half) and Adrian (4-and-a-half) were having ice cream. Adrian already had his, and he was sitting on a high stool to eat it; I was bringing one over for Nathan. Before I could get to Adrian, he took an extra-forceful lick, knocking the ice cream part down onto the floor. Nathan looked down at the ice cream, and, without missing a beat, announced "Dat was a f***ing mess." There weren't any other moms present, thank goodness, but the high school boys sitting at the next table nearly wet themselves with laughter. Again, I didn't make a big deal of the incident (although we did get Adrian a fresh cone).

Nathan doesn't say the word all the time. But it's definitely his go-to expletive in times of stress. Take this example from last year: the boys and I were at school for Science Night. Afterward, they played in the sandbox with some kindergarten friends. It was getting late, and although it was warm, the boys had been using the water feature and their clothes were wet.

When it was time for us to go, Adrian (being 5, and having more perspective) came out through the school with me toward the car. Nathan (being 3) lagged behind, angry that we had to stop, and uncomfortable in his clammy, wet shirt. We got through the school OK, but as I called to Nathan to come along with us to the sidewalk, he planted his feet, clenched his fists, and screamed from the front steps of the school, "I want dis stupid f***ing shirt off RIGHT NOW!" Again, thank goodness there were no witnesses. If anyone heard it from inside school, they were kind enough not to mention it to me afterward.

So, I must like living dangerously, because I made the mistake a few months ago of telling the boys that there is an even worse word, as judged by American culture. You probably know what it is. Even in our darkest moments, it's not a word we use in our family. I mean, I have a potty mouth, but this word just doesn't feel right in there. In fact, I think the last time I said it out loud was in high school, when I had just learned it and was joking around with some girlfriends. Or, come to think of it, I may have used it against my sister in our teenage years. (Sorry, Sarey!)

But when we were talking about appropriate words and the boys asked if the eff word was the worst word in the world, I had to be truthful.

No, I said, it wasn't. There was a worse word in our culture.

Would I tell them?

No, I absolutely would not. And neither would Daddy. But someday they would hear it, and they would come to one of us and ask if THAT was the worst word, and we would tell them that's the one, and explain what it is and why it's offensive, and that would be that.

Is the word 'poopy'?

No.

Is it 'doody head'?

No.

Is it 'wiener'?

No! Now stop asking.

Is it...

Hey, who wants to go to M&G for ice cream?