The "Damn It!" Chronicles

Many of you already know the "Damn it" saga in our house that started when Short Person was two, but since just as many don't, I am reposting the original blogs-- because I have an update at the end =)

When Short Person was two, she started picking up educational wisdom from her Grandfather in the form of colorful words. Words that she loved. But the biggest one, the one she really wanted to say more than any other was the phrase "Damn it".

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(Originally Posted November 27, 2006)

A few months ago, my daughter picked up a new phrase. A phrase she loved to use. Any time she would hurt herself, drop a toy, just get mad, or need Cheerios, the words "Damn it" would erupt from her mouth as though she were enthusiastically happy.

Somewhere, there is even video evidence of this fact.

The short person was playing outside at our family reunion. As her little cousin prepared to go down the slide, my daughter had the bright idea to go and sit at the bottom of it. She got tagged in the leg by two feet. Not hard, but hard enough to propel her out of her seat and proceed to grab her leg and hop around the ground saying, "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

For two months, I followed her around correcting her "Damn it!'s" with "Darn it's" and it worked. Until last Thursday when we had dinner with my in laws. Now, she's back to saying it... but this time, she's smarter. Now, she's correcting me. The other day, I said "Darn it" and my daughter walked over to me, grabbed my cheeks (I was kneeling at the time), pulled my face up to look directly at her, and said "No Mom... it's DAMN it."

(Originally Posted January 6, 2007)

We've gone through a few rounds of telling the short person that she needs to say "Darn it" instead of "Damn it". I finally cured it in a matter of speaking by telling her that when she looked like Grandpa she could say "Damn it" too.

For a long time that reasoning worked. It worked to the point that she was telling Daddy that only Grandpa could say it whenever those chosen words left HIS lips.

Tonight, the little character almost outsmarted me.

She came into the living room, lounged against the couch, and looked up at me.

"I look like Grandpa now." She said matter-of-factly.

"You do?" All I could think was "God help me, I think I know where this conversation is headed". Pleading for emergency wisdom from above.

"Yep! I do. So... can I say 'Damn it' now?"

My mind raced through response after response, searching for a way around my self-inflicted Grandpa rule. "Well, honey... I know you look a little like Grandpa but there are... other factors." Big words, I'll just use big words and she'll get befuddled.

"Fectors?" She's staring at me inquisitively, waiting for a response as to what that might mean.

"Yes. Like, I still think you're a little young yet. And... you don't have as many wrinkles as Grandpa..." I let my voice trail off and paused, wondering if this will do it, but she turned her face up at me.

"Please? I want to say Damn it." Her voice had a little wistfulness, like she knew that if she didn't say these two words she was going to be missing out on a big enjoyment in life. I'm a sucker for that voice.

"Hmm... well, maybe you should ask your Daddy." The ultimate cop out for those times when you know you are outsmarted and need back up assistance. This unfortunately happens altogether too often in our house but between the two of us we've somehow managed to stay ahead.

The short person wandered into the hall and I heard the door to our bedroom swing open and the first line of her "I look like Grandpa now" speech. Unfortunately, the rest was only quiet mumbles so I turned back to watch the basketball highlights on television. A few minutes later, she returned, her feet stomping sullenly on the floor and the scratch, scratch, scratch of a stuffed animal being dragged behind.

I looked at her lowered head and asked the question I was dying to know the answer to. "What did Daddy say? Did he say you look like Grandpa?"

"Yep!" She responded enthusiastically and I momentarily freaked, wondering what in gracious name my husband had told her.

"Oh... well, what else did he say?" I watched as she frowned and pursed her lips.

"Dern it, dern it, dern it."

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UPDATE: January 20, 2009

Two years. That's how long we thought the words "Damn it" had been eradicated from Short Person's vocabulary. She's experimented with some others, like Hell (We discovered that one during a game of hide and seek when Shortie couldn't find me. She stood in the middle of the living room after about five minutes of searching and screamed, "Mom! Where in the HELL are you?!), and a few worse ones that don't need mentioning, but 'Damn it' had all but disappeared.

Until tonight.

Tonight, we learned that although you can teach someone not to say something out loud in front of you, it doesn't mean the word has gone away.

LJS and I had just put Short Person to bed and were in our room talking about the weekend's events when all of the sudden there was a loud noise from down the hall.

Followed very closely by a very loud, "DAMN IT!"

Her water cup had fallen in between the bed and the wall to the floor.

It is very hard to scold someone when you are laughing your butt off-- not that it would do much good anyway. After all, one slip in two years isn't bad, and I believed her when she said she forgot she wasn't supposed to say it.

Ahh... thank you, Grandpa =)