We are a married couple who adopted our little Russky, Nikita {aka Nicky, Nicky noodle, little man, Nikoli, the Nickster, crazy dude, goofball, puppy love, etc...you get the picture!} from St Petersburg, Russia four years ago. Join us as we stumble through the joys and perils of parenthood, while our son teaches us a few things along the road...


Darn That Babysitter!

The other day before Nicky and I left for soccer practice, I'm flying about the house trying to get us something to take to drink, and getting shoes and shin-guards and too-tight socks on his fat feet, and trying to get our respective jackets put on, doors closed so the dogs don't get into anything, putting the battery back in the camera and starting the dishwasher, all while Nicky is wandering around the kitchen mimicking my movements.  Only there was a slight difference...he was muttering something.  I finally got close enough to hear him without making him clam up and I realized what he was saying was "dammit"...over and over.  Just "dammit".  Plain as day.  No tone, no emphasis, just very matter-of-fact.  After gaining my composure, I asked him what he was saying and he told me "dammit".  I asked him where he heard that and who said it.  Nada.  So, I said "those are big people words, right?  We shouldn't say those words because they're not very nice.  Momma and Daddy are sorry if we've ever said them around you."  He said "ok.  i not say that no more."  Whew!  Dodged that bullet!

Or so I thought...  I told Kris about this and of course we had a good laugh at it (while Nicky was napping of course).  I figured it would either go one of two ways: 1) he would say it again while Kris was around to see what he would get away with; or 2) he would never say it again.  Well, he chose #1, only upped the ante. 

We were driving home from dinner that same night.  Kris and I were talking, and Nicky was in the back dancing, trying to get us to dance with him.  He got a little out of control, so I asked him to calm down a bit.  Then a few seconds later, from the back of the car, we hear "eff. eff. eff. eff. eff."  Only, it was the actual word itself, not the scaled-down version I'm using.  Once again, very matter-of-fact.  This time, we chose to i-g-n-o-r-e (we tend to spell this word out a lot, when he does things and we're not sure how to react, as he knows the word itself when said now). 

So, we get home, Kris goes to our bedroom to change.  Nicky and I are taking off our jackets.  Nicky takes his off and says "effing jacket."  Then walks to the closet and opens it, saying, "effing closet."  Then hangs it up and says "effing hook."  Then walks over to one flabbergasted Momma, looks her dead in the eye and says "effing Momma."  Huh?!  WTF?!  I stood there, let out a short giggle, with my jaw on the ground, tripping over it as I ran to the bedroom and into my closet where I buried my face in my clothes and laughed - hard. 

Kris gave the "that's a big person word..." speech this time, and put him to bed.  We're just left wondering where he could've heard these words.  I mean seriously, we would never slip and let anything like that fly out in front of him.  I blame the babysitter!!!  (tee hee hee...we love you Gina!)  Guess it's time to really filter what we say in front of the pint-sized Johnson!

1 comment:

jenn said...

you did GOOD! im not sure i wouldve been able to make it to the closet!!!

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