Creative language

Lately, Boy has been asking me things like: "Mummy is [insert random word here] a swear word?"

When, like a good parent, I attempt to avoid directly answering his question and ask him, "Why do you want to know?", he tells me he's just curious.

"Do you know any swear words mummy? Can you tell me some?"

It appears one of his little classmates has been getting into trouble with the teachers.

"'Taleah', they say, 'don't use swear words'. But I don't know what swear words are."

Boy does love his language, and I hate to disappoint him.

"Funtastic is a swear word", I tell him.

"Fun-tas-tic!" Then he gives me that look: slight squint, head cocked to the side. "Is it *really* mummy?"

He appears to have come to the conclusion that swear words are something special and, perhaps, is hoping to impress his teachers. The funny thing is that if I shared a few choice words with him he'd probably be fairly unimpressed. Sigh, you say those things all the time mummy.

What's love got to do with it?

Boy informed me yesterday that he likes me, sometimes, and sometimes he doesn't. But he doesn't love me. Because love means you really, really, really like someone, and he can't really, really, really like me when he sometimes doesn't like me.

I have suggested an alternate definition of love, one that is not necessarily incompatible with occasional dislike. He disagrees.

I got my mother's day card today. He has written: Lik(e) you.

The full intended message, which he didn't get finished, was:

Dear mum,
I like you and I don't like you. I don't love you.
Happy Mother's Day!

Modern marvel

Boy wanted to know when Grandma was born.

Wow, that was a really long time ago!
Yes. I'm 64.
Ah, yes! That's because modern medicine is keeping you alive.