(thanks for the sweet visual aid, Brickdude!)
Last night, Lizzy was whining a lot. Need I say more about that? As we were preparing for bed, I said something about her sounding spoiled. I can't recall exactly what I said. But the word 'spoiled' sent her into a tearful fit. "I'm not spoiled!" she sobbed. "Spoiled is a bad word!" Funny thing was, when she said this, it reminded me of an almost identical reaction I had to my parents saying that to me. I suspect I was older than 3, though, because -- how can this child know what spoiled really means? I don't think she does. To my childhood self, spoiled meant that I was no longer any good. I had been good, but now I was ... rotten? Irredeemable? Something like that. I wonder what Lizzy was imagining in her fertile little mind. Of course, that's not what my parents had meant, either. But that's how I took it, and maybe Lizzy did, too.
I said, "Who told you that spoiled is a bad word?" The sources of information are few: Daddy, Mommy, Grandma Connie or a teacher or classmate at day care. In this case, it was Sean, her omnicient friend whose power over Lizzy has been demonstrated by the addition of "Sean'sfavoritecolor" to the word "purple."
"Sean said it was a bad word!" she said.
"But, Lizzy," I tried to explain. "It's not a very nice word, true; but it's not a BAD word." I'm trying to differentiate between things that I want her to never, ever say, and things that are merely describing a negative behavior or thing. I don't need to tell you how literally kids take things -- I think we all know that -- so I'm trying my best to introduce subtleties where they can be useful. Hey -- I can try, right?
"It is TOO a bad word. Sean said so," Lizzy insisted.
"Honey, Sean doesn't know everything. He's only 4!" I pointed out.
"He's not FOUR! He's THREE," she said. "Hmph."
Well. She got me there.
I think we finally established that spoiled isn't actually a bad word. It all makes me wonder what gems of misshapen wisdom other kids are carting home to inform their parents of, fresh from Lizzy's mouth. It's a pint-sized game of telephone.
cutest graphic evah!
ReplyDeleteI see in my mind's eye a white expanse, with a line across it, titled "the bad word continuum." One end is labelled "horrible", the other end, "delightful." Spoiled goes somewhere in the middle. Jesus goes at either end, depending on context (name in vain vs praise). We all know what goes on the horrible end: sponge. That's right, sponge. I hate the word sponge, and no child of mine will ever say it. It will be simply, "that squishy thing you wipe the counter with."
Hey, Jason & I just had a conversation about whether I was spoiled (I refused to load the lead into a mechanical pencil). I sympathize with Lizzy. I wouldn't have responded so well if Jason had unequivocally proclaimed that I was spoiled.
ReplyDeleteLet's invent a new word for sponge. Maybe we could use "squish" as a noun.
ReplyDelete