“Fiddlesticks!” It just doesn’t do the job. When I burn my hand on the oven, or I miss the door way and walk into the frame; I want to shout expletives like I used to. Only now there are two little ears listening, ready to repeat everything I say. So I can’t.
You start saying something then have to turn it into something trivial, meaningless and instantly forgetable. “Sh….. Shine a light.” “Fu… Four cakes and a currant bun.” Just where did that one come from?
OK, he will learn swear words at school. He already thinks bum is a hilarious word. I just don’t want him picking anything up yet, he might be 2 years old, but he is still my baby. Babies don’t swear.
He dropped his fork at dinner the other day, as it hit the floor, he exclaimed, “Fork off!” He was right, but it sounded dreadful coming out of his mouth. Hubby nearly compounded it by saying, “Don’t worry get another fork and knife”. Knife and fork, knife and fork – note to self – never say fork and knife.
Fiddlesticks is still a rubbish word. It just doesn’t make me feel any better, no matter how loudly I shout it.