I’m not entirely sure what my daughter’s first grade teacher was discussing in the classroom today. Whatever the reason, Isabella, at one point, found it necessary to declare: “I am not allowed to dress like a hussy.”
What is a hussy? the other kids immediately wanted to know.
Luckily I wasn’t there, and luckily the teacher had a sense of humor about it. Of course, Isabella learned that word at home; we’ve had problems with her clothing choice lately, and the phrase “You can’t dress like a hussy” seemed harmless. Alas, we forgot about the fact that children can and will repeat everything they hear to their teacher. So what else have we been telling her lately that could potentially be passed on? And why, when she can’t remember to clean her room or hang up her clothes, does she recall every inappropriate thing ever uttered in her presence?
To be fair, not everything bad that comes out of my children’s mouths is learned from us; some of it comes from Television. Lately, it all seems to come from the same place: a crappy little movie called Alvin and the Chipmunks. I know; we should have never rented it in the first place. I only allowed it because it was the end of a long day, and I was so happy the two of them finally agreed on anything that I grabbed it off the shelf and practically threw it at the cashier.
At first we thought it was merely annoying, though not quite as mind numbing as the original cartoon. Then, the little squirrel voices started to grind on our nerves, we realized one of the songs was set to the tune of “Don’t You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me”, and finally, we decided to cut the kids off. This was hard, as particularly our three year old so took to the movie he was asking for it six times a day. It was an instant addiction, with my son as the junkie, and me as the enabler. Where my daughter will watch something three times in a row, and then forget all about it, my son isn’t satisfied until he knows the movie by heart. And I mean that literally; he will softly mouth the words along with the characters on the screen until he can mimic even the intonation perfectly. I wonder if there is acting in his future; he’s certainly getting the necessary practice. If I were a stage mom, I’d actually be excited.
Yippy-Kah-Yea, Mamasita! I hear many, many times a day, and I realize: we did this to ourselves. The question is, once our children learn to love these phrases, can they learn to un-love them? Because, although as parents we should be more careful, I’m afraid we sort of missed the bus.
