There is a Beastie Boys song that features a classic exchange: “Professor, what’s another word for pirate treasure?” And then a deep voiced scholar says, “Well I think it’s booty.”
It’s stupid and silly and just inappropriate enough to make it perfect for Luca.
A few months ago, I played the song for him in his little bunk bed. Immediately after pressing “play” on my iPhone, I realized the first minutes of the song are just filled with filthy language. Lots of F’s and F-ing’s and, well mostly F-ing’s. By the time the booty line happened Luca had an absolute F-ing ear full.
Of course he loved it. And now asks for it constantly.
“Dad? Can I hear the booty song?”
“Dad, what’s another word for pirate treasure? Booty! Booty! Booty!”
I always oblige. But not before ruining the song with a lengthy lecture about bad language and how we aren’t supposed to use that kind of language and we can never say those words in front of other people and for sure never ever say that kind of language in front of mommy.
After one recent lecture, Luca looked at me thoughtfully. “Dad. I think maybe those bad words at the beginning of Professor Booty actually make the song better.”
I agreed. I asked him if he had a favorite swear word. He said he wasn’t allowed to say it.
I told him in the interest of science, it would be ok if he told me just so long as he didn’t repeat it in front of the servers at The Firehouse Grill. We were in the parking lot of The Firehouse Grill.
Luca looked into the rearview mirror at me and shouted, “Shut the F*** up!”
That was a good one.
p.s. T-Minus 6 days until Disney.