It starts small. A side-eye when you ask her to clear her plate. A muttered “Excuse you, pal” when her brother cuts her off at the fridge. Demands for “real chowdah, not whatevah this is.”

Then your bewildered spouse installs a swear jar in the playroom, and three-year-old Kayley is its primary contributor.

You’re raising a Masshole in Dubuque.

While pediatricians remain unsure why this regional condition occasionally manifests west of Great Barrington, most agree: do not panic. According to the Journal of Pediatric Regional Anomalies, Massholery in young children is rare, temporary, and usually nonviolent. Still, parents are advised to minimize triggers and limit public exposure, especially near Dunkin’ franchises or conversations involving municipal politics.

Redirect, Don’t Correct

Let’s say it’s a sunny afternoon on the city bike path. You’re all enjoying a pleasant family ride. Kayley blows past two seniors on recumbent trikes, yelling, “Get off the Pike, ya shitheads! This lane’s fa passin’!”

You may be tempted to coach her on more Iowa-friendly alternatives (“On your left!”). Do not. Studies suggest that correcting preschool vehicular aggression only escalates the behavior.¹ You’re likely to become the next target, labeled a “friggin’ menace to society” every time you so much as hesitate at a yellow light.

Cancel bike rides and nonessential errands for the time being.

Identify Triggers and Plan Accordingly

Like any developmental phase, the Southie Phase is best managed with patience, structure, and the strategic use of Fluff.

Food

  • She will insist on “a Dunks, lahge regulah” for breakfast. Comply as best you can: pour cocoa into an orange-and-pink paper cup and pray you guessed the correct Munchkins.
  • Lunch and dinner options should be limited to:
    • A fluffernutter on white bread, cut into triangles, served on a Larry Bird commemorative plate.
    • A lobster roll. “Yeah, with mayo. What are we, in friggin’ New Haven?”
    • A meatball grinder. “Heavy on the provolone, or so help me.”
    • Pizza flown in from Regina’s.
  • Do not, under any circumstances, serve Chinese food from a Dubuque-area restaurant, regardless of its claims to authenticity. It will not end well.

Weather

Weather is a competitive sport to the three-year-old Masshole. Any mention of snow is likely to provoke name-calling (“ya wuss”) and an unsolicited retelling of the Blizzard of ’78, when “we got a couple tree feet and Nana still made a packie run for her Millah and Camels.”

In March, she may greet strangers with, “We gettin’ spring this yeah, or is it straight to friggin’ mosquito buffet on my sweaty ass?”

Avoid weather talk where possible, and never compliment the Iowa fall foliage in her presence. She will lose it.

Travel

Avoid the phrase “Wisconsin Dells.” Any destination other than “the Cape” may trigger a tirade about your “wikkid lame outing.”

Instead say, “We’re rentin’ a place in Brewstah, but we gotta get out at the crack or the bridge’ll be a nightmayah.” Then hope she hasn’t learned to read road signs.

Sports

Avoid:

  • Minor-league baseball. (“No Sox? Pass.”)
  • Your nephew’s basketball championship. (“Parish would’ve clowned on Garret’s trash squad.”)
  • Any NFL broadcast featuring Tom Brady in the booth. Her reaction could range from misty-eyed gratitude to an enraged tirade about “that traitah. Friggin’ Flaridah?”

Religion

Keep Kayley home from services for now. Odds are, she’ll shout “What the shit? This ain’t real Mass!” when Pastor Angela walks out in a robe, then suggest she “hustle it up” because the Pats kick off in 23 minutes and “the Lord undastands.”

Consider a consultation if:

  • Kayley orders an Uber to Spag’s “to get some lawn ahnaments—it’s friggin’ ghoulish in this yahd.”
  • You find her circling apartment listings for Somerville.
  • She’s been carrying a rolled-up Boston Herald under her arm for four months “to check how the bullpen’s lookin’.”
  • She refuses preschool because she “got a gig drivin’ for Polah tonic.”
  • The swear jar now requires a dolly.

With time, Kayley should return to her sunny, R-pronouncing self. She’ll thank you for the sandwich. She might even wait her turn. But Massholery never fully disappears. She’ll still think you drive like a tourist.

And if we’re being honest? Ya kinda do.

¹ Rachel Stowe, “We Live in Bar Harbor. Why Is My Toddler ‘Finna Get to the 4:15’?” Journal of Pediatric Regional Anomalies, vol. 22, no. 3 (2025), pp. 102–108.