This is the story of what actually prompted “The Cursed Fork” post from two days ago. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the absurdity to write it up initially, and then I was stymied by figuring out what spelling best captured what was actually being uttered.
We haven’t had much in the way of problems yet with Hawkeye repeating words that he shouldn’t. I fully expect this to happen sooner rather than later, as Mommy can’t resist a good curse now and again under her breath, but so far it’s been blessedly quiet on the accidental toddler swearing front, giving us space to prepare our approach for the inevitable. The first line of defense is, of course, to not overreact. The most surefire way to get Hawkeye to repeat a word over and over and over again is to tell him not to say it.
So when, on a Tuesday night when I was alone with him, trying to convince him to finish up his dinner, and he looks down at his plate and emphatically said “fuck” I froze.
Did he just say ‘fuck’??? Oh fuck, what do I do? Breathe… breathe… pretend it’s no big deal.
“What did you say, honey?” I asked him sweetly.
“Fuck.” he repeated, looking up at me. Then he raised his fork. “Fuck!”
“Oh! You mean ‘fork’, honey. It’s ‘foRk’,” I emphasised the English ‘r’ sound in the middle. Totally plausible. He’s clearly talking about his cutlery, not using inappropriate words.
“No, it’s fuck” he said, shaking his head and showing me his fork.
“F-O-R-R-R-K” I said back.
We went back and forth for a bit until his “fucks” started sounding more like “fohks”. Well that’s an improvement. Sort of. A little bit. Maybe?
“Let’s say it again, honey. ‘Fork’.”
Hawkeye looked at me seriously and then down at his fork. “Yes, fohk,” he declared. “Fohk,” he pointed to his fork. “Chicken” he added, pointing to the chicken. Then in one swift move he impaled one of the chicken pieces with his fork.
“Fohk chicken.” He looks up at me smiling .
Fuck chicken indeed.
*No actual chickens were harmed during this incident. They had been well cooked by the time this happened.