A Note on Frogs
The wife and the Brother in Law alluded to this occurrence in both of their comments, but I thought I had better elaborate on it here to give the citizens the full effect of the story.
The two-year-old (we'll call her Touchdown with a wink and a nod to the Bro in Law) when she first started to talk had a little trouble pronouncing the word, "Frog". Lets just say that fricatives and glottal stops are complex things to master and the word came out a little (okay, a lot) like the big F word. Again, Touchdown was just barely over one, so the mispronunciation was endearing and funny and often called for once anyone found out about it. "Touchdown, what is Kermit?"
Well, the green amphibian became her animal of choice and she would bounce about the house swearing like a trucker stuck in the mud. "Frog, frog, frog, frog, frog." Harmless, until we went to church one day. Now in the Mormon Church, we have a big meeting called a Sacrament Meeting where the whole congregation meets together in a reverential setting to partake of the sacrament. Children cry and shuffle about uneasily, but parents struggle to keep them on a tight rein. For the most part, Touchdown did pretty good. She was normally quite reverent.
On the fateful day, I was on duty attempting to maintain the quiet reverence during the sacrament when Touchdown noticed a book protruding from the diaper bag. "Hmmm," she pondered reverently. I could tell she wanted something and I figured a picture book was harmless and quiet, but as she reached for the book, I discovered the topic of the book. Frogs. Again, like the elbowing of the girl on the first date, everything slowed down and I became aware of the imminent danger of the situation. "F--R--O--G," she shouted with astounding enthusiasm when the congregation was possibly at its quietest.
"N0000000000!!!!!!" I freaked as I stuffed that awful book deep into the recesses of the diaper bag. "Nothing to see here, Touchdown. Daddy killed the froggy. Wow, look a kitty."
"Heathens. Those Joneses teaching their kids all those nasty words. Despicable."
Water under the bridge. Now we just have to keep Touchdown away from Sister Atkinson. Yeah, somehow, her last name comes out JUST a little bit differently in mixed company.
The two-year-old (we'll call her Touchdown with a wink and a nod to the Bro in Law) when she first started to talk had a little trouble pronouncing the word, "Frog". Lets just say that fricatives and glottal stops are complex things to master and the word came out a little (okay, a lot) like the big F word. Again, Touchdown was just barely over one, so the mispronunciation was endearing and funny and often called for once anyone found out about it. "Touchdown, what is Kermit?"
Well, the green amphibian became her animal of choice and she would bounce about the house swearing like a trucker stuck in the mud. "Frog, frog, frog, frog, frog." Harmless, until we went to church one day. Now in the Mormon Church, we have a big meeting called a Sacrament Meeting where the whole congregation meets together in a reverential setting to partake of the sacrament. Children cry and shuffle about uneasily, but parents struggle to keep them on a tight rein. For the most part, Touchdown did pretty good. She was normally quite reverent.
On the fateful day, I was on duty attempting to maintain the quiet reverence during the sacrament when Touchdown noticed a book protruding from the diaper bag. "Hmmm," she pondered reverently. I could tell she wanted something and I figured a picture book was harmless and quiet, but as she reached for the book, I discovered the topic of the book. Frogs. Again, like the elbowing of the girl on the first date, everything slowed down and I became aware of the imminent danger of the situation. "F--R--O--G," she shouted with astounding enthusiasm when the congregation was possibly at its quietest.
"N0000000000!!!!!!" I freaked as I stuffed that awful book deep into the recesses of the diaper bag. "Nothing to see here, Touchdown. Daddy killed the froggy. Wow, look a kitty."
"Heathens. Those Joneses teaching their kids all those nasty words. Despicable."
Water under the bridge. Now we just have to keep Touchdown away from Sister Atkinson. Yeah, somehow, her last name comes out JUST a little bit differently in mixed company.
posted by Cool Dad at Saturday, July 02, 2005
10 Comments:
Here via Michele and don't all kids have one or more words that sound like the F word. My youngest was truck which he said with an fr instead of a tr and the rest is history as he told my grandmother and trucking in the mud...:)
Tooooo funny! Michele sent me, but I am here often.
Lol!! You both must have been a little embarrassed - lol!! You probably should have started her on other amphibians! Good story Tom!
Whoa! I'm sure the Bishop was ready to release you from your calling. Aren't you glad you weren't a primary teacher? I'm still laughing. Oh Well, we all have things like that happen. What's the deal with Sis. Atkinson?
Never mind. Have a good weekend and don't bring up the subject of Kermie.
Oh my Lord in Heaven!!!! LOL!
That's hilarious! Thanks for stopping by.
Hi Michelle sent me. :)
I meant Michele. One L. My bad.
This is good stuff. I especially liked the two-year-old words. Well, I guess the words are older than two, but you know what I mean.
I'm a Michele dropper-inner.
Hilarious! And I LOVED your "cover up"... "Look, a kitty!" ;)
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