I will start out by saying that Lucy can be pretty profane. Has been that way since she could talk. Her first word was "kitty", but not to long after that came her first two work sentence. . . "Damn it". She loved that phrase. When ever she would say it she would fist up her little hand and smack it on a hard surface while she said it. Cute big blue eyes and soft curls yelling out , "Damn it!" as she pounded her fist. Hard not to laugh. There were many other profanities, but the image of sweet little Lucy pounding her fist and saying "Damn it" is one that I hope will stay with me long after Alzheimer's has set in.
So a couple of weeks ago Lucy was in her play therapy, a place she goes every two weeks to learn how to deal with her emotions. While she was there Evelyn and I looked in the little shops in that strip mall (everything down here is in a strip mall!) In one of the stores we saw something and I immediately knew I had to buy it for my Lucy, it is something called a Dammit doll.
This doll looks like a Voodoo doll, but is made from a pretty fabric. It has a little phrase that is on the doll and it goes like this
When ever things don't go so well,
And you want to hit the wall and yell,
Here's a little dammit doll,
That you can't do without.
Just grasp it firmly by the legs
And find a place to slam it,
And when you whack the stuffing out
Yell, "DAMMIT! DAMMIT! DAMMIT!"
So, I really debated on if I should get this doll for my six year old. Evelyn was with me, telling me, "You have to get it for her." I knew it wasn't appropriate for her, but I just couldn't resist. I has a momentary thought of, "Well, maybe I will get it now and put it away until she is older." You know, when she is older we could joke about it being her first phrase. Of course I didn't wait though and I gave it to her when we got home. Initially she just hugged the doll and didn't want to hurt it. Intially.
"I AM REALLY HUNGRY! YOU HAVE TO MAKE THREE BOXES!" I tried to reason with her (haha - I should have known better) and I said, "Lucy, it will only be you, Ellie and Evie eating. Two boxes will be pleanty." "NO! I AM SO HUNGRY I COULD EAT THE HOUSE! YOU HAVE TO MAKE THREE BOXES!" At that point I told her I was only making two boxes and she needed to stop yelling. This sent her to the living room where she cried like a child who had never eaten in her life for about three minutes. Then she gets up and stomps to her bedroom where I start to hear something getting smacked on the bed frame and out comes, "DAMN IT! DAMN IT! DAMN IT!" She then stomped back out the kitchen, no longer crying but angry, Dammit doll in hand. She scowls at me and starts beating the doll on the counter repeat the phrase three more times. She turns to look at me again and stomps back to her bedroom. Really, all I could do was try to hide the fact that I really wanted to laugh. When I composed myself I asked her if she felt better. She yelled, "YES!"
Man - so funny. I know I shouldn't let her swear - and really we don't generally let her get away with it - but that was funny. Thus - reason number 214 as to why I will never win a parent of the year award. Honestly, I hope when the four of them get together to write the "Mommy Dearest" book that they take some of the proceeds and put me in a good nursing home!