I wanted to title this, "Why I have to change doctors, leave the valley and pull my daughter from school."
But, I found it to be a tad lengthy, so I chose "bad words" instead. Because after all, that's what I'm going to talk about. er, write about.
I've been conditioned, as I'm sure most of you have, that "bad words" are words that must not be spoken. Words that are icky and will get you in trouble.
Some bad words are soo bad that I want to change doctors, leave the valley and pull my daughter from her school.
Although my husband and I are not very churchy or religiousy people, we've chosen a christian private school for our daughter to attend. The kind of school where bad words are especially frowned upon.
Now, Mr. Potter has the job of dropping Isabelle off and picking her up from school, as he works in the same town. Monday was different...Monday he worked from home...Monday changed my life and probably my healthcare provider, too.
Mrs. Potter had the extreme joy of picking up her lovely daughter from school on Monday. I was so excited, I rarely get to go in and see the school and talk to her teacher and be the mom who picks up her daughter from school. Isabelle was excited, too. We took care of her things, chatted with the teacher and said goodbye to her friends. "Psh, this is easy." I thought.
On our way out, I saw him. My doctor. Helping his kid put his coat on. I was just getting ready to say, "Hey!" When Isabelle pointed to his son and said, "That's the little boy who says bad words all the time."
I was mortified. Frozen with fear! So, instead of saying "Hi!" I grabbed her hand a little tighter and we beat feet out of that bad word slinging school!
As we're walking the hallway towards freedom, I can hear them behind me. I'm sweating. My daughter is going to call his son out on his swearing, I know it. It's what she does. She calls people out. She tattles, she's not a good friend!
We're at the door. I open it and instinctively look behind me, to politely hold it for whomever may be behind me. To my horror, It was him. It was my doctor and his potty mouth kid!
I smile, say hello and think, "We're on holy ground, Isabelle. Please don't swear. Please don't say anything." We exchange small talk, "Ohh what class is she in?", "Burr, sure is cold." I can't bare to even look at him. I know my eyes will scream, "YOU'RE HOLDING HANDS WITH A POTTY MOUTH!"
Finally, he made it to his car, and I made it to mine. Thankfully, Isabelle had remained silent.
We're in the car now...I did what NO MOTHER should ever do. I gave my daughter immunity. I said, "Isabelle, can you tell me what bad words that little boy said? It's only just this one time, and only because mommy wants to know. You can never, ever, ever say it again after this...okay?"
I hated myself for it. I knew it was a mistake. WHY DID I ASK!? I could feel my 4 year old start to speak...it..it..it was the F-WORD!!
...."He says, "fart" and "stupid..""
Although she didn't understand my laughing, Mr. Potter and I had a pretty good chuckle.
Thankfully, we don't have to move, change doctors OR transfer her to a different school! Hooray for f-words!