Get your feet wet

Her limerick was filthier

So in a moment alone together the other night, the four-year-old pipes up with a fragment of her latest mental gymnastics:

“Mama! ‘Bell’ rhymes with ‘HELL’!!”

Precious, am I right?! I mean, that’s one adorable plate-load of Sugar/Spice/Nice&#169 we’ve got right there! (And I wonder why none of the other preschool Mommies will talk to me. . .)

Fortunately, I’ve read All The Right Literature, and I know precisely how to handle this exact parenting bugaboo.

First, I extend the withering glare of disapproving authority. Which, for whatever reason, comes out looking a lot like this:


Next, I go straight into a brief, non-judgmental explanation as to Why Children May Not Curse:

“Um, WHAT??!?!!

(Yeah, sounded a lot better in my head, too.)

“I said, ‘Bell’ rhymes with ‘HELL’!!”

“YOU, young lady, are technically correct!”

(On the up side, she’s well on her way to Budding Poet. Or all-girl AC/DC cover band-er.)

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