Manners

The Poop's speech is coming on a treat. She has recently begun to add to her single word repertoire a suite of two word utterances -  "don't touch", "read it", "some more", "turn off", "get it". (I have only just noticed how commandingly bossy each of these barked orders is. And domineering, overbearing, officious dictator is my strong suit. Cheeky mare. She'll just have to come up with somat else.) Anyway, so rapidly blossoming is her vocabulary that all swearing, of even the lowest level, must be muttered through bitten off lips for fear she will clasp her flapping lugs about its profanitous phonemes and spit them, some three hours later, at an unsuspecting stranger in Tesco.

Okay, so it isn't quite that bad. Yet. But after a day in which she called one if the adults in nursery a "wally", told me I was a "naughty" for dropping my phone and then, while returning our trolley at B&Q,  shouted "shut up" at the attendant; we need to clean up our act.

So we're on a big push when it comes manners. For ourselves and for The Poop.
We got down to business yesterday.
For our part, there is to be no swearing. At all. So you can imagine what that meant: we have spent the last two days greeting the amazing volume of bad news, breakages and accidents that have swung our way with a whole host of "blimey"s, "crikey"s and "golly-gosh"s. We sound like an episode of Midsummer Murders. But it was when I stubbed my toe viciously, excruciatingly, grotesquely, against that bloody lip on the bathroom skirting board; I just couldn't hold it in.
"SSSSSSSSSSSOD OFF" I bellowed as I danced and hobbled about the landing. Thankfully, Boo was fast asleep and Dave had nipped out, so no harm done - well, aside from the ulcerated digit hanging limp from my mutilated trotter.

For Betty's part of the etiquette evolution, we spent yesterday driving home "please" and "thank you". We had a gracious and genteel tea party; countless well bred and impeccably mannered trips to the 'shop', and shared one truly notable and refined moment when, as Boo and I sat playing on the floor, Dave trumped, and I thanked him for having courteously wafted it away from us with a sofa cushion. Class, I'm sure you'll agree. Still, I was genuinely thankful. I've tasted one of his guffs before.

So, when Betty woke this morning, we hit it again, and were delighted to find that she, without fail, responded to "what do you say?" with a "peas", and said "ta" when handed her porridge, socks, toys and juice. We had a visit this morning from Betty's Nannie, who got lots of smiles, kisses and a lovely "bye-bye" as she left.
By the time the window cleaner called at lunchtime, the pleasantries were becoming second nature. We went to answer the door, said "Hiya" and gave the nice man some "pennies". After he told Boo she was a "little smasher", Betty waved and smiled ever so politely, before suddenly screaming "sod off" in the guy's face.
Kids today. Dragged up.