Truth hurts

As I've said before, Henry's a talker. He was born speaking in sentences. He is very good at articulating exactly what he wants/feels/needs.

He knows he's not supposed to call people names. He tested us once and called his sister "stupid." We put our foot down and he never said it again. Instead, he started doing something funny.

Henry: Jane! You're a miltzaber!

He made up his own words. We didn't know how to deal with it, at first. We ended up changing the ban to include made-up words that are obvious substitutes for bad words (a few times his made-up words came a little too close to the real thing, like the time he called me a "fucko"). In response, he started calling us perfectly acceptable words, with biting tone.

Henry: Mum! Stop being such a sabre tooth!

On one hand, good for him for using language so creatively. On the other hand, what a dink... looking for loopholes to insult his family. Now we've had to ban the intention to insult, rather than just the word content. A few days later, he got angry with me for mowing the lawn when I should have been playing with him.

Henry: Dad! You're such a journalist!

Me: (open-mouthed silence)

Erin: Truth hurts, Dave.