Unfiltered Story #241785

I was working at a preschool and my co-teacher and I were settling our class down for nap. The age group for us was two and a half to three and a half. One little boy didn’t have to nap because his father was picking him up shortly after nap time started. I was sitting on the floor between to little ones on mats with my back to a wall so I couldn’t see the little boy playing with the toy barn at the other end of the room. My co-worker can see him from where she is sitting so it’s all good. He is a quiet 3 year old who is quite good at playing nicely by himself. I have reached a zen like calm as I rub backs and listen to our nap time music and can hear the little boy talking to himself:
Boy: Here is the cow. The cow says moo. The
piggie goes in the mud. The farmer is going
to fix things.
The farmer apparently now has a conversation with the cow.
Boy: Hello farmer. Moo. What are you doing?
Hell cow. Have you seen my f******
hammer?
According to my co-worker, she has never seen eyes pop open as quickly as mine. We both looked at each other.
Co-worker: Did he just say what I think he said?
Me: Good question. Let me check.
Mind you, this child has NO history of bad language and I have baby sat him and his older siblings and they aren’t know for using such language either.
Me: ( boy’s name), are you ok over here?
Boy: Yup!
Me: And how is the farmer doing?
Boy: He can’t find his f****** hammer!
Me: Um, ok.
I then suddenly remember that this boys father has been renovating their basement and he has been know to drop some colorful language when frustrated. Much to the mother’s unhappiness.
Co-worker: Are we going to tell his dad when he
picks up? I don’t want (boy) to get into
trouble, I don’t think he knows what it
means.
Me: (trying not to laugh) I don’t think (boy) I the
one in trouble.
The dad comes to pickup around 20 minutes later and I go to talk to him.
Dad: And how was ( boy) today?
Me: Good, good. How’s the basement coming
along?
Dad: Just fine now, little annoyances here and
there.
Me: Has ( boy) been helping you?
Dad: Actually, yes. Why do you ask?
Me: (Boy) tell your dad what the farmer lost.
Boy: Farmer lost his f****** hammer!
The father went white as a sheet, probably realizing what his wife is going to do to him when she finds out about this addition to her son’s vocab.
Dad: Oh good, what do I do about this!? Should I
punish him? My wife will skin me alive!
Me: I wouldn’t worry too much, he seems to be
using the word like any old adjective. Blue
hammer, red hammer, bleeping hammer. I
would just ignore it. And, you know, keep
(boy) out of the basement for awhile.
Dad: Well, obviously!
Things went well. The child didn’t swear again that I ever heard and the mom thought the whole thing was hilarious.