In the late 80s we lived in Italy and DS1 attended asilo which is a pre-school and kindergarten school. The boys would play games pretending to shoot things with their fingers. In Italy they don't say "bang, bang," but "fire, fire." In Italian it is "fuoco, fuoco." (Yes, you know where this is going.)
We move back to the US DS1 is attending first grade at the local Catholic school. The first week we get a call from the principal.
Sister: "Deacon Dragon I need you to come in to talk about DS1's language. He's here in the office now."
DH: "What? What is he saying?"
Sister: "He keeps yelling the F word when he playing with the other boys."
They went back and forth a few times with DH trying to explain that he wasn't and the principal cutting him off, insisting that the teacher had heard it herself.
DH: "Sister, do you speak Italian?" (There was still an Italian language Mass every Sunday at the parish.)
DH: "Ask him in Italian what game he's playing with the boys. Then ask him what sound he's making."
After being put on hold for a while the principal comes back on the line. "Oh, never mind."
Fortunately DS1 didn't perform the Italian boys greeting of smacking their friends on the back of the head with a loud, "Ciao!"