Fragle Rock and Muskrat Love

A few nights ago, after the children were tucked in bed, I was watching The Daily Show.  Suddenly, John Stewart let of a string of words that resulted in a long, loud bleeeeeep courtesy of the station censors.

I'm not certain exactly what John said, but the audience was howling so it must have been good.  I admit, I laughed too - probably twice as hard since I had to fill in the blanks on my own.  Still, part of me wondered whether the same bit would have been just as funny without the expletives.

I'm not the grammar police.  Or the vulgarity brigade.  Or any part of the language law enforcement community.  And St. Peter knows I've used my share of four letter words in my life.  But I'm a Mom now.  So I need to be very careful about what I say - lest little ears hear and repeat.

Take last week as an example.  I was getting out of the car with my purse and brief case in one hand and a pile of Emily (4) and Beth's (2) school papers in the other hand.  My purse snagged on the corner of the car door and the contents spilled on the floor.

I wanted to say "*****."  But instead I said "Danga langa langa."

Beth looked at me and frowned.  "Mommy, why did you say ****."

I gasped.  "I did not say ****.  I said danga langa.  And where did you hear that word?" (Note to parents, repeating the offensive word is the exact WRONG thing to do in this situation.)

Beth perked up.  "That's what Daddy says when he drops things."

I could feel my cheeks getting red.  Daddy, it appears, is continuing his streak of teaching the munchkins how to talk like sailors.  A few years ago, he taught Emily to say "****** ******."  That's right! ****** ******!  Can you believe it! And she was barely three years old.  While the maritime profession is both old and honored, I'd prefer my children to be out of diapers before they adopt these seafaring ways.

In his defense, Ken is muttering these words under his breath and holds the erroneous belief that no one else can hear him.  It's like chewing gum.  The person chewing it doesn't think anyone else can hear them chomping like a cow crunching their cud. But we can.  Oh yes, we can.

Ken uses the same philosophy when he mows the grass and sings while wearing his headphones. He seriously believes that no one else in the world can hear him screaming the lyrics to Muskrat Love above the roar of the lawn mower.

And they whirled and they twirled and they tangoed
Singin' and jingin' the jango
Floatin' like the heavens above
It looks like muskrat love

Just try and get that ear worm out of your head. Ha! To this day, Ken doesn't understand why the minute he pulls the Lawn Boy out of the garage, the neighbors scatter like a flock of pigeons.

Unfortunately, what Ken fails to take into account is the inevitable operation of Murphy's Law for Parents.  MLP states that "the information your children will retain and repeat is directly inverse to the social acceptance or desirability of said information." 

Your seven year old will forget to say Happy Birthday when he talks to his Poppy on the phone.  But he won't miss the chance to tell Poppy that he can't put Mommy back on the phone right now because she's peeing, but don't worry, she's almost done because now she's flushing. Gee, thanks for the update.

And even though you may want your two year old to remember and repeat her address and phone number, which you spend two hours drilling her on, she is more likely to remember and repeat the conversation she overheard between you and your sister.

"Daddy, Mommy says you is a jerk."
"No, honey.  Mommy didn't say Daddy is a jerk. Mommy said Daddy is acting like a jerk."  There is a big difference after all.

Here's another example.  Let's say you walk into your four year old daughter's room and trip on a princess dream castle that has been carelessly tossed on the floor.  The spires of the castle dig into your foot like a nail. This causes you to lose your balance and fall head over heals towards her bed. 

In a vain attempt to save yourself, you reach out your hands and grasp a book shelf.  But you fall on your *** anyway.  As you are laying on the floor looking at the ceiling, the book shelf topples over and a hundred copies of The Magic School Bus bombard your head. 

Naturally, that's when you yell "****!"

You spend the next hour nursing your wounds and patiently explaining to your child why leaving toys all over her room can hurt someone.  She nods, indicating that she understands. 

Two days later the room is a mess again, the child having completely forgotten the cleanliness lecture.  But that same night you find your precious four year old tossing her yellow duckie toys into the bath tub while yelling "****."  That lesson is the one that sticks.

Of course, the above examples are purely hypothetical.  Right? Right.

To avoid teaching my children the wrong vocabulary, I considered hiring a personal censor to follow me around.  Then, whenever some ******* cuts me off in traffic, I could shout "Outta my way *** ****" and all the kids would hear would be a long, loud bleeeeeeeeeep.

But since personal censors are hard to find, I've resorted to making up words instead.  Danga Langa, Britches, Shoe Shine and Fragle Rock are among my favorites.  Used in a sentence it would sound like this: "Those Danga Langa Britches left their Shoe Shine all over the Fragle Rockin place."

I admit the sentence doesn't make a lick of sense; but, at least I don't have to worry about my kids repeating it.

(P.S. Disclaimer: Ken does not listen to Muskrat Love on his head phones.  This is just a test to see how much of my blog he will actually read. :-) But the part about him singing and mowing is the Fragle Rockin truth.)