The Sriracha Effect
I have always been a proponent of language in our house. "Use your words," I constantly remind the children, "and stop pounding your brother!" My daughter learned 'wild words' in 5th grade; multi-syllabic challenges to our vocabulary, like 'perseverance', we implemented at dinnertime. Foreign languages expand brain development, so I've shared smatterings with my children over the years and successfully advocated for a Spanish and after-school French class at our school. My tolerance for profanity, however, in a house full of children, is zilch. As such, I swear by the 'Sriracha Effect'!
I always knew my children would learn more than George Carlin's 'Seven Dirty Words' on the playground. Over the years I've cautioned my children, "Use swear words at school and I'll know!" Initially, they figured it was because of my CIA training and skill in lie detection and surveillance, however, I reminded them that profanity used frequently will become part of their everyday vocabulary and earn them less respect from adults. You can imagine my surprise when my daughter came home from 2nd grade proclaiming that she knew the I-word, the S-word, the H-word and the F-word. Sure I knew the 'S and F' words, possibly the H-word, but I was racking my brain to come up with the I-word. I braced myself as I reluctantly gave her permission to spout the words out of her innocent mouth, ill-prepared to react. Proudly my daughter explained, "Idiot, Stupid, Hate and Fart!" as if she were educating her mother on new English language 'wild words'. Exhaling relief, I stifled my laughter, realizing this was only the tip of the iceberg. It was only a matter of time before this family of six would be challenged with worse! Guilty myself, my wisdom dictates that certain situations call for an F-bomb or S-word, but I'll leave them to manage that, out of my earshot.
Unfortunately, our dinner table is where the majority of *$%&!* goes down. It's either potty talking smack among the boys or a slip of the lip that's been tried successfully on the playground. Siblings enjoy conquering each other through fits of laughter and the younger you are, the harder you try! Initially, being excused from the table to sit in the bathroom where potty talk belongs worked as a punishment, as the perpetrator was forced into exile where he or she least wanted to be. The novelty wore off and additional Love and Logic consequences forcing them to use their words in paragraphs had miniscule effect. That's when I pulled the 'tried and true' classic washing the mouth out with soap trick, remembering the distasteful experience myself in 6th grade, as if it were yesterday, when 'crap' earned me my comeuppance!
Ironically, everyone had his or her sudsy mouthwash, except Mom and Dad (perhaps we had learned from our youth). From Dawn dish soap to the fragrant bath soap in a pump, they were equally awful. Breathing a sigh of relief as parents, we figured the battle was won, until the youngest, age four, proved us wrong. Having excused himself to the bathroom, he returned exuding confidence. "See Mom," haaaah he breathed open mouthed in my face, "I washed my own mouth out with soap!" Defeated, yet proud of his initiative, I returned to the drawing board.
Tabasco is a condiment at our table habitually consumed by my husband. It promptly replaced soap at our next meal.
A dab on the finger easily swabbed on lips or ingested by spoonful, has the same burning effect, leaving children with a lasting impression as they hurry-scurry to douse their faces in gushing water from the sink. Unfortunately, a few rounds of Tabasco and, like my husband's tongue to my cooking, the children became numb to its effect.
The four-year-old potty-talking, foul-mouthed child was the tipping point of the heat index, as this mom subsequently picked the perfect poison: Sriracha. It is, in fact, the children's Kryptonite! "In addition to being a sweet, tangy, delicious variety of hot sauce, Sriracha also boasts many different benefits for your health" I explained at the dinner table, as the children cautiously observed the new condiment. Utterly thankful I had splurged on the additional hot condiment, I lacked the fear of reprisal for my parenting choices; after-all, who can argue with a condiment served at dinner? "Sriracha tastes horrible, way worse than Tabasco!" they testified, while my husband nodded in agreement refusing to participate in the taste test. My four-year-old even exclaimed that "soap, mixed with ice cream, Tabasco and Sriracha would taste better!"
Needless to say, a dab of Sriracha will do you (in)! I can recount only two of my four children daring to brave inappropriate language at the expense of Sriracha, and all children learned by observing their consequences. Auspiciously, I have only suffered a spoonful of Tabasco (once or twice), while it was with unified pleasure that the children served dad a soup spoonful of Sriracha. What's proverbially good for the goose...
In the midst of our relocation from Colorado to Oregon over a year ago, the bottle of Sriracha was ceremoniously tossed in the trash. While Señor Tabasco proudly dons a sombrero and cape at our table, the mere suggestion of Sriracha elicits vocabulary suitable for 'Her Majesty' in Buckingham Palace. I'll admit that while the consequence may have been difficult to dole out, the rewards were plentiful, at little cost to the family. Triumphantly, I smile at the family memories, confident no one wants Mom to bring back the heat of the 'Sriracha Effect'!
I always knew my children would learn more than George Carlin's 'Seven Dirty Words' on the playground. Over the years I've cautioned my children, "Use swear words at school and I'll know!" Initially, they figured it was because of my CIA training and skill in lie detection and surveillance, however, I reminded them that profanity used frequently will become part of their everyday vocabulary and earn them less respect from adults. You can imagine my surprise when my daughter came home from 2nd grade proclaiming that she knew the I-word, the S-word, the H-word and the F-word. Sure I knew the 'S and F' words, possibly the H-word, but I was racking my brain to come up with the I-word. I braced myself as I reluctantly gave her permission to spout the words out of her innocent mouth, ill-prepared to react. Proudly my daughter explained, "Idiot, Stupid, Hate and Fart!" as if she were educating her mother on new English language 'wild words'. Exhaling relief, I stifled my laughter, realizing this was only the tip of the iceberg. It was only a matter of time before this family of six would be challenged with worse! Guilty myself, my wisdom dictates that certain situations call for an F-bomb or S-word, but I'll leave them to manage that, out of my earshot.
Unfortunately, our dinner table is where the majority of *$%&!* goes down. It's either potty talking smack among the boys or a slip of the lip that's been tried successfully on the playground. Siblings enjoy conquering each other through fits of laughter and the younger you are, the harder you try! Initially, being excused from the table to sit in the bathroom where potty talk belongs worked as a punishment, as the perpetrator was forced into exile where he or she least wanted to be. The novelty wore off and additional Love and Logic consequences forcing them to use their words in paragraphs had miniscule effect. That's when I pulled the 'tried and true' classic washing the mouth out with soap trick, remembering the distasteful experience myself in 6th grade, as if it were yesterday, when 'crap' earned me my comeuppance!
Ironically, everyone had his or her sudsy mouthwash, except Mom and Dad (perhaps we had learned from our youth). From Dawn dish soap to the fragrant bath soap in a pump, they were equally awful. Breathing a sigh of relief as parents, we figured the battle was won, until the youngest, age four, proved us wrong. Having excused himself to the bathroom, he returned exuding confidence. "See Mom," haaaah he breathed open mouthed in my face, "I washed my own mouth out with soap!" Defeated, yet proud of his initiative, I returned to the drawing board.
Tabasco is a condiment at our table habitually consumed by my husband. It promptly replaced soap at our next meal.
The four-year-old potty-talking, foul-mouthed child was the tipping point of the heat index, as this mom subsequently picked the perfect poison: Sriracha. It is, in fact, the children's Kryptonite! "In addition to being a sweet, tangy, delicious variety of hot sauce, Sriracha also boasts many different benefits for your health" I explained at the dinner table, as the children cautiously observed the new condiment. Utterly thankful I had splurged on the additional hot condiment, I lacked the fear of reprisal for my parenting choices; after-all, who can argue with a condiment served at dinner? "Sriracha tastes horrible, way worse than Tabasco!" they testified, while my husband nodded in agreement refusing to participate in the taste test. My four-year-old even exclaimed that "soap, mixed with ice cream, Tabasco and Sriracha would taste better!"
Needless to say, a dab of Sriracha will do you (in)! I can recount only two of my four children daring to brave inappropriate language at the expense of Sriracha, and all children learned by observing their consequences. Auspiciously, I have only suffered a spoonful of Tabasco (once or twice), while it was with unified pleasure that the children served dad a soup spoonful of Sriracha. What's proverbially good for the goose... In the midst of our relocation from Colorado to Oregon over a year ago, the bottle of Sriracha was ceremoniously tossed in the trash. While Señor Tabasco proudly dons a sombrero and cape at our table, the mere suggestion of Sriracha elicits vocabulary suitable for 'Her Majesty' in Buckingham Palace. I'll admit that while the consequence may have been difficult to dole out, the rewards were plentiful, at little cost to the family. Triumphantly, I smile at the family memories, confident no one wants Mom to bring back the heat of the 'Sriracha Effect'!
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