It might make me a terrible mother, but when my kids were smaller, I loved hearing them mess words up. In fact, it was very difficult for me to correct them because they sounded so darn cute.
For instance, when my son wanted to say 'basketball,' it came out 'spacketball.' Or, 'balloons' were 'abloons.'
When we were teaching him about 'clocks,' he somehow made it come out sounding like 'fuck.' We'd say, "Where's the clock?" and he would point excitedly at the clock on the wall, shouting, "Fuck, fuck!" We'd point to the numbers for him and count them out - "1, 2, 3..." and so on.
We were shopping one day, and my son was in the front of the shopping cart. We maneuvered around the crowds of people to get to the produce section and my son spotted the fruit and vegetable scales. Thinking they were clocks, he points very excitedly and starts screaming, "FUCK, FUCK, Mama. FUCK!" Being so used to him saying this for clock, and immediately knowing he was referring to the scales that he thought were clocks, I nodded enthusiastically and said, "That's right, man!" and I give him a high-five.
When I looked up, several people were staring at me and one older woman was looking at me as if I were the scum of the earth. It registered then that these people were seeing me vigorously encourage my 2 year-old to curse like a sailor. With burning and bright red cheeks, I turned to my son and began immediately correcting him...what I should have been doing all along. "CL-ock. CL-ock, Christopher."
With bright eyes and what was evidently a great desire to get it right, he said very slowly, "C-ock."
