Sandeep Says A 'Bad' Word - Censored Version

You may remember that a while ago, I wrote a post entitled "Sandeep Says A 'Bad' Word." Well, some time ago, it was brought to my attention that some people are so offended by the "eff-word" that they cannot read and understand this story because all they see is " eff-word, eff-word, eff-word.".

For those of you who share this disability, in the spirit of the Americans With Disability Act (ADA), I offer you this cleaned-up version. The changes are marked as such: *change enclosed*.

So, here is the revised, expurgated, censored, cleaned-up version for the tender-minded.


I hope the language in this story doesn't offend you. It really is necessary. Remember Sandeep was a very innocent little five year old sometimes city, but more often farm boy. We had always encouraged him to talk to us about what was on his mind. He was never punished or humiliated for asking questions, no matter how outrageous they might seem to us. How else is a child to learn?


One day when he was five years old, Sandeep walked up to his dad and apropos of nothing asked, 'What does *fudge* mean? Why is it a bad word?'

It seems that he had heard the candymaker use that word; then he saw Sandeep there and told him to never, ever use that word. Of course, that piqued his curiosity.

I was in the next room and just had to listen in on this little father-son talk. I could just see his blush under his Kraft caramel coloured skin.





Although he was born and raised in North America, he shared with most Indians a discomfort at the mention of anything even vaguely about *candy making.*

'Well, it means what married people do to make *candy*.. But it's word we don't use.'

'Oh. OK.' Then that innocent, innocent voice. 'Daddy, did you and mommy *make fudge for* me?'

I had to hear this. Forget the light blush. At this he had to look positively sunburned.

My husband was much more traditional about such things that I was, and the thought of him discussing our *candy making* with his 5 year old son was delicious.


'Uh, yes. But that's too private to talk about. And we don't use that word. It's a bad word.'

'Oh. OK. Why is it a bad word?'

A thoughtful silence. 'I really don't know. But it's about the baddest word there is.'

'Oh. OK. Daddy, do chickens *make fudge*? They always have *brown stains* around *their beaks*.'


A bit impatiently and clearly uncomfortably.. 'We don't use that word.'

'Well, do they, uh, whatever the word is?'

'*Make chocolate candy*. The word you want is *make chocolate candy*.' (Remember, he was a physician.)

'Well, do they *make chocolate candy*?'

'Yes, that's how *fudge is* made. People, chickens, goats, fish.' ( I don't think fish *make chocolate candy*, but he was a terribly discombobulated at this point. )

'Sandeep, never use that other word, especially around your mother. It would be very disrespectful.'

And, you know, I don't think he ever did.