The "C" Word

Little Squirt jumped into my car after school yesterday, with intensity.
“Guess what, Mom?!” he said. “I've got a really big secret that Ethan told everyone.” He paused for dramatic effect: “His mom said a SWEAR!! It was the “C” word.”

The “C” word??

The mature and godly mothers of my Christian parenting books would have told their sons to stop the gossip. They undoubtedly would have frowned upon the dirty-laundry-airing of another family, changed the subject, and queried their children about their spelling words.

But this mother was curious. “Little Squirt,” I said, “What is the “C” word?”

My 7yo learned forward toward the front seat, and whispered, “Crap.”

Hmmm. Interesting. Crap is actually one of my frequent-usage vocab words, and I was surprised Little Squirt did not recollect that. I utter it loudly when I bump my knee on the coffee table, and it actually has endorphin-boosting effects on the pain. I consider it in the “gray” realm of words, because if I am going to pick my battles, there are worse words I forbid in my home. But, in the first-grade school yard, Ethan’s mother uttering “Crap” was this week’s big, dirty, potty-mouthed secret. (Pun not intended.) This was huge! It was the grade-school equivalent of making the headlines for "In Touch Weekly."

I felt sorry for Ethan’s mother. The poor woman had no idea what an impact she had made in the first-grade gossip-mill that day! And now I’m going to have to be more selective with my verbiage the next time I feel the need to let the family know I just walloped my patella.