Medieval Insults to Replace Swearing: A Parent's Guide (My 2-Year-Old Approves)

It was a Saturday morning. The coffee hadn’t quite kicked in. There hadn't been much sleep for the last week or two (or come to think of it, since January 2021 - must be a coincidence that my eldest was born then). I was attempting to hand a new picture on the wall by the stairs. It dropped. It partially broke. DIY is not my strong point.

Before my brain had time to intervene, a few words came out of my mouth that absolutely should not have done, lucily all of my children were in the other room at the time. Or so I thought...

Let's just say the second word that materialised was "sake". I will let you guess what the first word was. Annoyingly that was the exact moment my two and a half year old came looking for a bottle of milk, or crisps. He looked up at me, with the happiness of someone who has just learned a new, seemingly useful word.

The parrot then repeated the phrase 42 times in quick succession.

Which was not as many times as my inner voice was saying the same thing to me, replacing "sake" with "idiot". It was a bad start to a Saturday.

“What’s that word, Daddy?”

I changed the subject so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash, but the damage had been done. He didn't believe that I said "fluffy bananas". Fortunately, every parent has a version of this story and kids usually pick up new vocabulary when you are trying to find a car parking space in Lidl.

The specific word varies - there is a very good story of a friend's daughter upon hearing the word "tw@t" in a car park (yes, this was in Lidl) spelling the word out to her mother because she was learning phonics - fortunately my son is too young for that.

A narrow escape.

A small child’s delighted curiosity does not vary. Then the worry there might be an 'Incident Report' from nursery to do with a small child's colourful language does not disappear either. My instinct was to wonder whether I could blame the new word acquisition on my wife? She's Australian and they have some very good adjectives to describe every day objects, which children shouldn't use.

And in the aftermath, the mild shame, the frantic subject-changing, the private promise to do better, most of us make the same mistake, we try and say nothing at all, pretend it didn't happen, gloss over the whole event.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have a better solution...

The golden age of child-friendly insults

The English language between roughly 1300 and 1700 was, it turns out, a golden age of family-safe verbal outrage. Our ancestors were astonishingly creative when it came to expressing displeasure, and they did so in ways that were vivid, ridiculous, oddly elegant, and entirely suitable to repeat in front of a toddler.

I discovered this while writing Book 4 of The Good Knight series, The Tournament, in which the villainous Wallachian Weasels arrive at the castle and immediately begin throwing insults in every direction, usually at Sir Percy who doesn't take it overly well (there are tears).

I needed their insults to be:

• funny

• historical-ish

• safe for bedtime reading

• enjoyable for tired adults to say aloud

What I found was SO good that I’ve been trying to bring these words back into daily life ever since. The can replace modern day swearwords and there is no risk whatsoever of someone looking at you in a supermarket after a rude word is uttered in error!

If you visit www.thegoodknightbook.com there is a whole Guide to Medieval Insults that you can get for free by signing up to Jack's Shield Wall, but here is a taster for you to get some practice in...

Fopdoodle

A foolish, self-important person who is both inept and entirely unaware of it. In use since the seventeenth century, but by applying the same historical accuracy as the Braveheart film it is definitely medieval.

Use when:

The milk runs out. The Wi-Fi collapses. Someone parks across two spaces or cuts you up in Lidl.

Say:

“You utter fopdoodle.”

Nobody is harmed. Your child learns vocabulary. You feel better.

Whiffle-Whaffle

To speak complete and utter nonsense. Idle chatter. Empty blather. Meaningless waffle (remind you of any 2-5 year olds by chance?). Used since at least the sixteenth century and still, in my view, the finest description of:

• pointless meetings

• long-winded emails

• your toddler’s legal argument for chocolate for breakfast.

The beauty of whiffle-whaffle is that you can hear the nonsense inside it.

Use when:

You disagree with the content of a work email, or to express disappointment during a meeting.

Say:

“This is absolute whiffle-whaffle.”

Beef-witted

Slow-thinking. Dull. Mentally sluggish. Specifically in the manner of someone whose brain appears to be made mostly of beef. A Shakespeare-adjacent level of insult. This is not merely calling someone foolish. It is giving their foolishness texture.

Use when:

The sat nav reroutes you through three villages to avoid a road that was completely clear or has taken you down a country road which has had two farms decide that it would be the opportune moment to move all of their cattle.

Say:

“You are absolutely beef-witted.”

(direct this at the sat nav, ideally, never at your wife...)

Gore-bellied Hag

Pot-bellied and disagreeable. A wonderfully overcommitted insult. This is not for daily use. This is for ceremonial moments. Use sparingly. Deploy with gravitas.

Use when:

Someone takes the children parking space you were clearly waiting for, makes eye contact, and smiles - gets out of the car and doesn't have any children - you might have guessed that there have been a few incidents at Lidl recently, actually that one was at the local Morrisons.

Say:

Nothing out loud. But think: "Only a gore-bellied hag would take a parking space like that.”

Your blood pressure will lower immediately.

Saddle Goose

A complete fool. Someone trying to attach a saddle to a goose. Used since at least the fifteenth century, it is very, very, very difficult to do that and only utter fools would even attempt the act.

This insult was dispatched in The Tournament, it is one of my favourites.

Use when:

You send an important email to the wrong person.

Say:

“I am a complete saddle goose.”

Self-directed medieval insults are deeply therapeutic.

Why this matters more than it sounds

Children copy everything, absolutely everything. Our tone. Our habits. Our reactions. And, most definitely, our words. So if something is going to be repeated loudly in Lidle, I’d prefer it to be fopdoodle than the alternative beginning with a 'F'.

And if, along the way, they discover that language can be playful, silly, surprising and fun, even better. That’s part of what The Good Knight series is built for, stories that build a connection through language, through fun and learning.

Jack's world is full of stories rammed with words worth saying aloud, preferably in your best villain voice. Reading is meant to be fun and I really believe that what The Good Knight delivers. If you would like to build your vocabulary of medieval insults then can get a completely FREE copy of 'A Complete and Entirely Authoritative Guide to Medieval Insults' - just join Jack's Shield Wall at www.thegoodknightbook.com and be part of the fun!