Anna swore for the first time yesterday.
She's at that age where she repeats the last word of everything you utter, so you can have a lot of fun with her, making her say 'ho' and 'be-otch'. I did not intend for her to say 'fuck' but what can I say, I was in the Trader Joe's parking lot and if that doesn't make you swear then nothing will. Ever.
There are three Trader Joe's in Santa Barbara (technically two in SB, one in Goleta) and each one is a parking travesty. One Christmas Eve I was stuck in the Milpas TJ's for an aeon because my parking space was too valuable for someone to actually back-up and let me out. Fascinating no? Anyway, back to yesterday, I was already a tad stressed and in need of a large glass of wine because Anna now has the wingspan of a small pterodactyl and loves to throw things from the shelves in to the trolley or on the floor. Maybe that's how I ended up with that can of lychees.
I was turboing round the shelves trying to get the chuff out of there, buying minced ginger instead of minced garlic by mistake (mmmm that lasagne's going to taste gooood tonight - lasagne Thai style). So there I am trying to reverse out of the parking lot, and I didn't even realise I'd been swearing until Anna is parroting 'chuck' 'chuck' all the home. Not a bad way to start swearing really, especially as in the North of England (where my soul still resides) 'chuck' is a term of endearment. 'Ay up chuck' means 'hello love'.
Then my friend M. hinted at another more sinister possibility. What if Anna wasn't saying fuck? What if she truly was swearing and was repeating the last word of the scourge of every dinner party in SB - two buck chuck? Charles Shaw to those not in the know, a Trader Joes blended red wine that sells for $2 a bottle, hence the name two buck chuck. What if Anna was yearning for cheap booze? Not that implausible given her albeit brief upbringing in the K household.
I'll keep you posted.