The Great Douche Bag Incident of '04

While I think I'm pretty funny, and you might think I'm pretty funny, there are at least two people I know for sure don't think I'm funny. That is why I didn't want Mr F's parents to read my blog... or the kid's blogs. And part of why their visits can be stressful.

This became perfectly clear during the "Douche Bag" incident of '04.

At some point right before Kid's 2nd birthday we were walking down the street on our way to meet some friends. Kid at this point was amazingly verbal but she would still say something that you didn't quite understand. On this day she said something that sounded exactly like "douche bag". Now surely she wasn't... and even considering our sometimes colorful language "douche bag" is pretty old school and wasn't exactly part of our everyday vernacular.

Now every parenting book on the planet will tell you to ignore this type of behavior... but I really couldn't resist... so I asked her to repeat herself and when she said it again I fell to the ground in hysterics.

Then I did the number one thing you shouldn't do. I told her to say "douche bag" to our friend when we met up. Our friend was sufficiently scandalized/amused. I was pleased with my little old school swearing baby monkey. We went home and I told her to call Mr F a "douche bag". Mr F, of course, thought this was hilarious. For the next two weeks we would prompt her to greet the other parent with "douche bag". It was all fun and games there for a while...until...

A month or two later I was visiting my in-laws with Kid. Mr F was flying in later to meet us. Kid and I were out to eat with Mr F's parents. At this point Kid had stopped saying "douche bag" for a good month and a half. It was cute, if not adorably crude, while it lasted but she was over it. Or so I thought.

While at dinner I asked Kid, innocently, what she was going to say to Daddy when we picked him up at the airport. Kid matter of factly replied "douche bag". I snickered... somewhat shocked. Mr F's parents looked at each other and his dad asked "What did she say?". Now if I had been thinking on my toes I would have said "I don't know" or "hmmm... trash bag?". Instead I said "She's said what you think she said." To which my father in law replied "douche bag?". And I just said "yes".

Now if you were an outsider looking in this would have been one of the funniest conversations of all time. And in the moment I could appreciate that... but they could not. And really what could I say?... Oh I don't know why she says that?... I just let it go and didn't explain it. It was horrifically awkward to say the least.

In contrast while visiting my own father shortly there after... Kid's use of "douche bag" momentarily re-ignited... she busted it out in reference to the trash bag sleds he had rigged up for us... thinking she had finally discovered what a douche bag really was. My dad had a really good laugh over that one. And when I explained to him how we had coached her he had a little twinkle in his eye. You see the apple does not fall far from the tree.
Well I guess unless Mr F is the apple...