I suspect all these songs, except possibly Haaland, have radio-friendly “clean” versions, but those are not the versions our kids seek out and sing along to. There are probably language filters that could be applied if you’re the sort of person who worries about your kids hearing bad language, but my wife, who claims to be such a person, has never sought them out.
In other words, she wouldn’t allow me to normalise swearing in my own home, but she had no problem with a digital device doing it. I always believed she must have some elaborate self-justification for this, but when I asked her about it recently, I was shocked to discover that not only did she not have any justification, but she had actually taught the children all the swear words herself, during lockdown.
When I asked why, she said: “It was lockdown. It was pretty boring.”
My initial reaction was to laugh at the irony of the whole situation, but the more I thought about it, the more I realised how perfectly it captured in miniature the whole messy journey of parenting. We can read the books and articles of the leading experts, follow every parenting Instagrammer and listen to every parenting podcast, and we can hope to enact their advice, but when it’s just us and our child/ren for hours at a time, and we’re staring simultaneously at each other and into the existential void, we’re just doing what we can to get by. Put another way: it’s all good and well to set out to be perfect role models, but sometimes we just say s***.
Having kids forces you to interrogate your beliefs about all sorts of issues. Because kids so often ask “Why?” we parents are forced to examine the logic of our claims more thoroughly than most. As a result, we frequently find our logic lacking. In the case of a prohibition on swearing the logic is something like: “You shouldn’t swear because decent people would disapprove.”
Well, f*** that.
“Bloody” was once considered unprintable. “Bugger” was even worse. Words pass in and out of the bounds of social acceptability too frequently and easily for us to get too worked up about any of them. Parents already face too many battles, requiring too much energy, for us to have to police an ever-changing list of words.
Regardless of what I do or say to police my children’s language, there’s a good possibility that, at some stage - probably during their teenage years - at least one of them will employ the phrase: “F*** off Dad, you stupid f***ing dips***” and what will hurt most is not the words, but the intent behind them. Because, while I can think of many ways to stop my kids from swearing, I don’t know of any way to stop them from thinking I’m an a***hole.