My daughter grew up overnight. Suddenly she’s less about asking millions of questions and more about being in her room tuning me out with the help of her iTouch. On occasion I steal little peeks into her Tweendom and scan through her texts.
Yes, I invade her privacy. Why?
A wise woman once said, “Do you know how you can tell when a teenager is lying?
Answer: Their lips are moving.”
Okay, it was Judge Judy but still…she’s wise-ish.
It’s mostly innocent girl babble, however this past Saturday I had a bit of a surprise. There was a conversation with a friend that seemed harmless until I followed it all the way to the end where my daughter had written, “F**K!”
My first thought? Obviously from her use of asterisks she’s not fully committed so I still have time until the real language is unleashed. It was however my first, OMG my daughter is not a little girl moment. I’m not naive. I know she says it when I’m not around but this was my first confirmation.
The rose covered glasses have been officially removed.
Since Grade four when she announced a boy in her class had said a bad word I knew it was in her vocabulary. She wanted so badly to tell me the word. There was so much excitement on her face I couldn’t help myself and let her say it.
Her eyes got huge.
“Can I really?”
“Really. Once,” I clarified.
I tried not to laugh. It sounded so funny coming out in her little voice.
But once wasn’t enough, she’d felt the power because she went on to tell me the context in which he had used it. I can’t remember exactly but it was an awkward sentence and used just to display his intellect of curse words.
I told her she shouldn’t admire him because he wasn’t even grammatically correct. And that was really saying something since fuck is a hard word to get wrong. There are so many ways to use it. Noun. Verb. Adjective. It really is the best and most versitile word ever.
Personally I don’t believe in bad words, just indecent people using them. There’s a time and a place for all of it, especially in a work of fiction when bad language is necessary to convey a certain character. And I can’t very well take the high and mighty road when I’ve been known to slip in various driving incidents.
I do recall telling her fuck shouldn’t be over-used or it loses its power.
I lied, it totally doesn’t. Fuck just feels good to say.
And now she knows too. Now I guess I should have the conversation about how crude it sounds coming out of a young person’s mouth and when she chooses to express herself over texts or whatever she should always assume there’s another snooping Mother (beside her own) creeping on the receiving end who very well could label her as “trouble.”
Just today when I thought I’d cleared the cursing hurdle, my 8 year old boy who was scanning iTunes said, “I like this song but it has a swear in it.”
Here we go again. I sigh. “What word is it?”
May his innocence last forever.