At great risk to me, our elder boy has reinvented swearing.

Yes, I can hear what you’re thinking. Frank must have spoken some bad words in front of Eric, and they’re coming back. You would be right and wrong. I did speak a “bad” word last year – “damn” – and Eric took to it right away. After some performances of the Evil Eye by the Lovely Spouse, and I knocked it off, and Eric hasn’t mentioned it since.

But now, he is encountering situations where some emotive exclamation is appropriate. He knocks into things; he inhales some water while swimming; he falls. Any self-aware human needs to have something to say at such times. As I have lost my liberty to properly train the boy, he’s come up with something himself. Of course, it’s a howler.

Un, deux, trois!

Sometimes, for a really bad smash-up, there is even a “quatre”. One’s pity for the brat is immediately overtaken by the absurdity. Admit it – what warm-blooded creature wouldn’t smile upon hearing a choking boy count in French?

Dear reader – have you an opinion on whether the boy should be allowed to continue improvising? Or shall we teach him a few of the gentler exclamations on the spectrum – like “d’oh!” or “darn” or “aw man!”?