I tend to drive alone with my daughter to the same places – daycare, grocery store, bank. When I am not driving these usual routes with her, I tend to not always, well, watch my language.
The other day, I picked her up at the eye doctor, where Ms. Kaz had an appointment, and drove her back home. Someone cut me off, or wasn’t driving fast enough, or too fast, or something, so I yelled, “F*%@er! Go!”
Immediately realizing my mistake, my brain decided it would be a good idea to follow it up with a second mistake. The best course of action, it decided, would be for me to say, “Oohhhhh. Daddy shouldn’t have said that. That was wrong for daddy to say. Daddy needs a timeout,” which immediately focused her attention on, “what did daddy say that was wrong?”
She sat silently for a while. Then she said something. I didn’t quite make it out. I didn’t want to ask her to repeat it, so I held my breath and waited. After a little while, she said it again. “Peppers, GO!”
I exhaled and spent the rest of the ride home trying to distract her from “Peppers, Go!”