Ah, Lordy. I swear I try to be a good mum. I promise. But sometimes, well, things don’t go according to plan. (Hmm, now that I think about it, if my sons are involved, nothing ever goes according to plan. 🙂 )
So, yesterday I was chatting to my eight year old son. He’d had a fight with one of his friends and was pretty cut up about it. Being a good mother (snort), I got him to speak about what he could say to make things right between the two of them, and more importantly, how he could say it.
In my great motherly wisdom, I explained that it’s always good to speak nicely when you want to put your point across. Don’t get angry, don’t shout, just say things calmly and keep the chat friendly.
My eight year old responded instantly. (Damn kid. He’s always too quick for his own good.) “Mom,” he said, “how come you’re telling me to be nice and calm when you say shit and fuck whenever you get cross?”
It took a good few minutes to regain my composure after that. I had to turn and hide my surprise from him. Also had to hide my snickers (yes, I thought it was hilarious – sue me) as well as think up a brilliant response. Finally I had one.
“You see,” I said with all my maternal brilliance, “it’s really quite simple. When I get angry or upset, I like to swear to myself, where the other person can’t hear me. it’s just my way of expressing frustration so I won’t take it out on the person I’m angry with.”
“Really?” asked the eight year old. “Then how come you’re always rolling down your car window and telling other drivers to fuck off?”
I let my husband take over the conversation after that. I think he’s probably a better role model than I am.