And A Child Shall Lead Them

As grew older I noticed my vocabulary had gotten smaller. The younger edition of me used to know lots of words. For every occasion or occurrence the perfect word would issue forth from my mouth with silky smooth fluency. My vocabulary being well suited to its purpose, everyone always knew what I felt and what I was thinking because of how I wielded my words. The only fly in the ointment was that every adjective and most nouns I used were vulgar expletives. Many times my wife would ask me to tone it down, or choose a less offensive word. In my small minded world I wondered how she could be offended. I reasoned that my words were directed at others, not at her, so she should have no objections to how I expressed myself. I didn’t realize that my vocabulary was not only a reflection of me, but it was also a reflection of my wife. One of God’s most beautiful creatures, both inside and out, had freely chosen to marry, and have a family with, me. That I, at times, was a vulgar brute was as much a reflection on her choice of a husband as it was on who I was and what I thought of myself. It took our oldest child to help me realize the truth.

It was a windy Saturday morning and the whole family had gone to the mall. Our family vehicle was a small pickup truck with an extended cab with two jump seats facing each other. These jump seats were perfect for the car seats needed for our daughters, who were both still in diapers. My wife was on the passenger side getting our youngest daughter out, and I was on the driver’s side getting our oldest daughter out. At the time, I carried a loose leaf planner which went everywhere with me. I placed it on top of the bed of the truck while I wrestled with the car seat. Just as I lifted my daughter out of the truck a gust of wind blew the planner off the truck. As it hit the ground, pages splayed out in a beautiful, but awful, fan like pattern. It was at this time the vulgar brute in me emerged and I let an expletive of damnation fly. My wife stood straight up, fixed her gaze straight into my eyes, right to my soul, and gave me “The Look”. Every man that has been married longer than twenty minutes knows what I’m talking about. I say this because they’ve told me, “I know what you’re talking about!” as his wife nods in the background and mutters to herself, “You’re darn right he knows.”

As we walked in to the mall, my wife lectured me on my choice of words. My response was how could our daughter possibly know what I said was a bad word, much less how and when to use it? After all, she was only two years old. I promised to be more careful and left it at that. Two weeks later we were all in our daughters’ bedroom. Our custom was to bathe the girls, get them ready for bed, and spend the last couple of hours with them in their bedroom reading to them, playing with them, or just being together. Our oldest daughter, the one who witnessed my display of vulgar language two weeks earlier, dropped the toy she was playing with, resulting in it falling apart on the bedroom floor, much like my planner had. To my utter shock and disappointment, this sweet child of cherubic countenance and unsullied heart, let fly the exact same expletive of damnation she had heard her daddy use. What added to my shame was her perfect use of the expression. Perfect situation. Perfect timing. Perfect vocal inflection. Perfect imitation of daddy. As if I didn’t feel terrible enough, I again got “The Look.” This time it was longer and pierced deeper into my soul, convicting me and at the same time pleading with me, challenging me, to be a better example for our children. Message delivered. Message received.

The ensuing weeks were challenging. Expressing surprise, shock, disappointment, amazement, and anger, all became more difficult because of the vow I had taken to upgrade my vocabulary. It was then I truly realized how small my vocabulary had become. Profanity had woven its way into such a prominent place in my word selection that legitimate words left my memory. I had to reacquaint myself with proper, non-offensive language. I found myself stuttering and double clutching words as my mind frantically searched for an alternative that would bring pride, rather than shame, if our daughters were ever to repeat it.

As parents, we want only the best for our children. We want them to be taller than us, more athletic than us, smarter than us. Better than us. To accomplish this we must provide an example for them to follow. If we want our children to speak with an above average vocabulary we must speak with an above average vocabulary. This applies to all aspects of our lives, not just our word selection. It applies to the music to which we listen, our friends and those with whom we associate. It applies to how we dress and the movies we watch. The irony is that although parents teach life’s lessons to our children through our example, it is our children who lead us to become better people by their desire to learn from us. Without our children watching every move we make, would we make the same choices? I’d like to think I would, but experience says otherwise. Marrying a wonderful person has challenged me to become a good husband, and having children has challenged me to become a good father. That is why I vowed to change my vocabulary. Now if we could only get their grandfather to take the same vow.