I really shouldn't have said that

I can be a bit... sweary at times. These times tend to be during my conscious hours, although I have been known to swear in my sleep. I don't swear in front of my children because that's just plain bad parenting. I know this because my last neighbour took great delight in teaching their six year old girl to say; "Wanker" - and they were the type went eighteen stone but always wore a tracksuit. They were cheery enough, and always said hello when they went past pushing a pram whilst holding a can of beer. At ten in the morning. I try not to judge. I often fail.

I have, to date, only sworn in front of my Kids once. I had dropped a plate and it just slipped out. The Boy was on it in a flash.

"What did you say, daddy?"
"Er... ship."
"Why did you say ship?"
"Because I dropped a plate."
"Oh."

So far, so good. And I suspect I would have got away with it if the Wife hadn't walked into the room just as the Boy was saying;

"Ship! I dropped my fork!"

Ironically though, the Wife's reaction to this was to mouth the words; "You twat" at me. So I don't think I can be blamed. She's a terrible influence. The thing is the Kids might not listen when you want them to, but they're always listening when you don't. Worse still, you generally don't find out straight away. You'll be sitting at a set of lights when you'll hear a voice from the back seat yell;

"Come on, you lemon!"

When you realise that you're not quite the calm and considered driver you thought you were. Or that gentle approach to parenting you pride yourself on is proved to be a lie when, whilst having an argument with the Girl, the Boy walks into the room, puts his hands on his hips and yells;

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?"

Even when they're not swearing or insulting people (or, in the Girl's case, punching them in the ear hole) you'll find them suddenly switching into "adult speak."

"Well done, Boy! You ate all your dinner!"
"Yeah. I'm quality."

And television doesn't help. Since the BBC started showing Rastamouse my Kids have taken to responding in Jamaican dialect.

"Did you flush the loo?"
"Ire, mon."

Its only a matter of time before they start calling me a bumba clart...

I don't really help myself at times. When the Boy first started to speak my Wife was obsessed with making him say "bubble" because it was so cute. On the other hand I regrettably taught him to yell "black power!" That came back and bit on my the arse on a number of occasions.

Essentially, your children are mirrors of your own personality. Thus far what the Kids have taught me is that the Wife and I are no nonsense, call it as you see it, rather judgemental, insulting people who think its okay to use Marmite to write in birthday cards. The last one might just be them though.

Allow me to finish with an anecdote that I think makes the point.

One evening when the Wife was at work I was reading stories to the Kids after their bath when there was a knock on the front door. As I got up the Girl ran to the door and opened it.

"Hello, little girl, is your mummy in?"
"No."

And she slammed the door in the woman's face as I rounded the corner. I opened the door and was trying to apologise as the Girl pushed against the door yelling;

"Arrrrghhh! Dinosaur! Dinosaur!"

Now, I should say at this point that a) the Girl was right, her mummy wasn't in and b) the woman did look a bit like a dinosaur. However, I managed to get the Girl back to the living room by giving her a spoon and showing her where the cat was. The woman/dinosaur at the door (who was giving me a look like I was something she'd just trod in and couldn't get off her shoe) turned out to be collecting for Christian Aid, so I went and got the little envelope and handed it to her. With a look of disgust she said; "Why is it empty?" and before I got a chance to reply the Boy yelled from the living room;

"BECAUSE WE DIDN'T PUT ANYTHING IN IT, STUPID."

Ordinarily I would have told the Boy off for this, however like the Girl, he had a point. She might have been collecting for a charity, but she was a miserable, judgemental witch who clearly had taken exception to me the moment I opened the door.

It was only later on that I remembered that at bath time the Kids had coloured my face in with bath crayons and, to make the Wife laugh before she went to work, I'd written "twat" on my forehead.