As I ponder the string of generations running back from my belly button to Adam and Eve, I have little originality to offer, particularly on the topic of parenting. Maybe just one droplet of wisdom, in fact.
It all started one day during an argument with my two-year-old daughter. Maybe we disagreed about whether to take a walk or take a rest. I was a strict enforcer of afternoon naps, which became less and less popular as she grew older.
“But I want to go out and play,” she began.
Me: “You can, after your nap.”
Daughter: “But it’s sunny now.”
Me: “It is still going to be sunny later.”
Daughter: “But right now the other kids are playing outside.”
Me: (thinking to myself) “Everything you say starts with the word ‘but’ right now. Have you noticed that?”
Daughter: “But –“
Me: “See what I mean?”
Daughter: (a little louder. “But –“
Me: “Yes indeed, there it is again. That is what I am going to call ‘but talk’ from now on. And I don’t want to hear it. Know why?”
Daughter: “Why?”
Me: “’Cause it’s rude to talk about ‘butt.’ Don’t talk about ‘butt.’ I don’t want to hear about ‘butt.’”
Daughter: (thinking to explain that she meant the one-T variety of b.u.t. “But –“
Me: “There you go again, see what I mean. Now let’s go up for your nap.”
Following this first exchange, I cherished the ‘but talk’ rule. The trick remained for the next several years to keep a straight face each time the point came up. Try it; say in your chest voice: “Don’t talk about butt. I don’t want to hear about butt. It’s rude to talk about butt.”
Do this in the context of a protesting preschooler who takes you seriously, while wishing to correct your misperception of the word intended.
Like many good arguments, this one ultimately petered out. I will not forget the day in kindergarten when my daughter triumphantly cleared her throat and said “However!”
I said nothing, just waiting.
“Are you mad at me now?” she asked.
“No, I’m not mad,” I replied, trying to keep a straight face. “You’ve learned not to talk about butt anymore. You can always say what you think.”
Even now, the butt talk rule lives on. True, today it may be taken only in yearly or so doses. When I say “Don’t talk about butt” now, both of us almost always end up laughing, deferring the sharpness of our differences in view, and drawing our shared memory back to days of a greater innocence.
Windows of thought 
The older I get the more I realize that half of the scolding I recieved was probably done while holding in their laughter. I find this happens often with my friends kids as I have to leave to room to make sure their parent can keep a straight face! 🙂
Very humorous insight into the family dynamic. I love the play on words and the obvious development in a small child’s understanding of words. Clever.
Lol!! Super story, smart girl!