At the first sign of those adorable first words when my son turned two, I was delighted.
Hearing his little sing-song, Mogwai sounds being replaced by a little gurgling, chirping young voice was truly magical, that is until the words started to turn on me somewhat. I know that it is a necessary part of his development but sometimes even at this young stage their words have the potential to mortify and humiliate us.
‘NO’ and 9 other words I wish I hadn’t taught my toddler:
1. ‘NO.’
“Can I have a hug?” “No.” “Would you like an apple?” “No.” “Where is the book?” “No.” Would you like some chocolate?” “NO, no, no, no.” ‘No’ even to chocolate? Sometimes it feels like he’s not actually my child. Anyone else’s toddler on a ‘No’ jag?
2. ‘Dada.’
The little bastard said ‘Dada’ before he said ‘Muma’ which was obviously a MAJOR betrayal in my eyes after all the gestating, birthing and breastfeeding I did for him. ‘Dada’ f*cking Dada. Now The Child calls every man he sees ‘Dada’ which can lead to awkwardness when out and about as it can seem like I’m trawling for a baby daddy.
3. ‘Moo.’
The child hopped up on to my lap, grabbed my breast and shouted “MOOOOOOOO”. Mortifying though also impressive that he’d made that connection.
4. ‘Crisps.’
This one really exposes me for the liar that I am. I claim to only feed my child avocados and hand-reared lamb and organic quinoa. And yet ‘crisps’ was one of his first words, and are his main focus in life. How to get crisps, eating crisps, crushing crisps into the newly hoovered carpet. The child loves crisps.
5. ‘Bath.’
“Bath, bath, bath, bath, bath.” The child is OBSESSED with the bath. The bath chant usually starts first thing in the morning and by 10 am I am worn down and defeatedly, running a bath a few minutes later.
6. ‘Willy.’
‘Wee-wee!” He says pointing at ANYTHING that vaguely resembles a willy or the crotch of any passing man who he has most likely just called Dada a few moments earlier. It seems to imply an unsettling image of excessive parental nudity in our house, which I assure you is not the case.
7. ‘MUUUUUUUUUUUUM.’
I wanted him to call me mummy, but his contrary nature clearly forbade this. Instead, he screams ‘MUUUUUUM’ 52,000 times a day. He sounds like an 11-year-old.
8. ‘Ass.’
It’s fairly self-explanatory.
9. ‘More.’
‘Mo, mo, mo, MOOOOO.’ 53,000 times a day. He shouts ‘MOOO’ at anyone who has something he wants. Strangers in the street with ice creams, my friend who stupidly gave him a bite of her scone, not realising that he would not relent until she has given him the rest of her scone. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ I ask awkwardly as we hand it over to the two-foot tyrant screaming at us.
10. ‘Bye.’
At first it was cute when he learned how to say bye and would basically start telling everyone ‘bye-bye’ once he wanted them to leave. Then he started telling me ‘bye-bye’ when I was literally just in the door from work. Brat. One day we were walking to the car, and he wanted to explore some nearby bushes. We were running late, so I tried the old ‘muma’s leaving without you’ fake-out. ‘Muma has to go to the car,’ I said pretending to walk on, when I heard a conniving little voice behind me that despite his barely two years of life somehow managed to sound sarcastic, ‘bye-bye!’ he smirked as he stole into the bushes delighted that I was at last shoving off.
