The Itsy-Bitsy Spider was my daughter’s favorite nursery rhyme.

She sang it non-stop.

Wherever we went, she would belt that song out like a professional, and she had a cute little voice.

But I was mortified.

Why?

Because instead of Itsy-Bitsy Spider, she would melodiously chant Itchy-Bitchy Spider.

Repeatedly. And over-the-top loud.

As you can imagine, her nursery rhyme cussing did not reflect well on either one of us.

And did I mention that I was non-stop humiliated and hugely embarrassed?

Who wouldn’t be? It wasn’t a good look. At all.

But she didn’t care.

No matter how often I tried to correct her or how many times I tried to shush her or explain to her that she was using a “dirty word,” my beautiful but spunky little girl continued to call that spider an itchy bitch.

As I wandered through grocery store aisles, stood in line at the bank, or dropped her off at nursery school, she would croon about that bitch of a spider who never seemed to make it to the water spout.

♪♪ ♪ ITCHY ♪♪♪ BITCHY ♪♪♪ SPIDER ♪♪♪

Some people laughed, others stared blankly, but most just gave me dirty looks.

What could I do? Gag her?

A gazillion years later, she’s still precocious, with an itsy-bitsy potty mouth.