M has recently taken up swearing, (o parent shame!) but at least it's in a minority language and perfectly context-appropriate, so we're kind of proud. (Besides, I'm sure he's not the first person to tell non-compliant Lego to f*** itself).
It also brings to mind many memories of Aleksander, who as a toddler was taught by our godfather the following rhyme in Serbian:
The wind is blowing
And my balls are swinging
Find me some women
He was utterly charmed by it and would repeat it Every. Single. Time. he felt the slightest breeze upon his face, including, memorably, that time when his very genteel grandparents had the local parish priest over for afternoon tea in their garden.