profanity, part II

This morning, when I dropped Lizzy off at day care, she settled into coloring, like she usually does at that time of day. (they have certain activities that the kids can do at certain times. Others are "closed," a term that has cropped up at home when Lizzy doesn't feel like playing, say, Go Fish with us right then. "No!" she'll wail. "Games are closed!")
I admired her friend Henry's Woody doll, a character from Toy Story. No, he corrects me, it's not a doll! It's a TOY. Well, then. Sorry about that, Henry! We wouldn't want to suggest that a manly 3-year-old boy might play with DOLLS. So I'm pulling the cord on the back, and he says various things, such as "There's a snake in my boot!", "Howdy, Partner!", etc.
I put down the doll -- er, toy -- and another little friend, Sean, says, "He also says 'Shut up!' ", with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, as if by pointing this out he's being slightly daring. I feigned a bit of shock, and said, "Oh, that's not very nice, is it!"
Then Lizzy's little friend Delaney breaks in. "My daddy, sometimes when he's driving, he will say, 'Damn it!' at the other cars. Sometimes, he'll say, 'Damn it!', she repeats, and then repeats it again another time or two. My eyes are darting nervously over to Lizzy, who's merrily coloring away a couple of kids over from her, and sort of monitoring the conversation, but not actively taking part. "Oh," I say, racing for a way to divert this line of conversation. Delaney soldiers on. "And sometimes," she says, "He says, 'GO! GO!' at the other cars."
Ahhh, public education. Or, private education, actually. Yippee.

Another note, along the lines of the kiddo drop-off and pick-up: It's such a wonderful feeling when Lizzy says, "That's my mom!" with awe and wonder and joy in her voice when I pop in unexpectedly. It is clearly a high point in her day.
I notice this with the other kids and their parents, too. If I stick around for a few minutes, for some reason, I am nearly mobbed by a cluster of kids wanting to show or tell me something. It's like we're celebrities of a sort. Visiting parents! Cool!!
I'm soaking it all up for that time when it will be the opposite. Ohhh, the stories we'll tell of when Lizzy was a wee one. I can't wait to see the mortified looks on her adolescent face.