I hear the usual chattering of my kids echoing out of the bedroom, breaking the weekend morning calm. It’s truly a welcome sound, reassuring of their good mental and physical health. The house is fully awaken now with their footsteps and the clanking at the breakfast table, followed by my wife asking me if I want fig, cherry or blackberries. Before I get caught up in the hustle and bustle, I managed to fit in a moment of gratitude and hope for the new year. And I patted myself for being a multitasker.
Today, my son excitedly told me a girl’s private is called china.
For first time in my kid’s 7 years of life, the dreaded F word came out of his mouth at the dinner table.
A dead silence ensued.
I was at least relieved to know that he didn’t know what it meant. As I was trying to figure out how to deal with it, I recall my own experience with it when I was a teenager in a foreign country struggling to learn English.
It was one of very first words that I acquired while trying to mimic and fit in. I can still remember the impact of that word on people’s faces as I uttered casually. They expressed shock and confusion, but eventually smiled and forgave me.
It has come a full circle; now it’s my turn to smile and forgive as my kid gets bigger and inevitably acquire more choice words.
My seven year old has grown tall before my very eyes, shooting up like a corn stalk, shedding baby fat and toddler clumsiness in the process. But yesterday, he exclaimed ” Tooth fairy came last night!”. Ahh, he is still in the golden age where magic and untainted innocence is possible. Don’t grow up too fast, my child.