On more than one occasion my dear father has kindly reminded me to watch my mouth. I'm not a sailor, but perhaps I could be a deck hand. I've tried over the years to adapt my vocabulary to new words, but it seems I've reached into the past for some of my favorites such as: blast, drat, criminy, oh my laws, dag nammit, shucks... the list goes on & on.But then there are those words... You know the ones. The ones that escape from your lips when you stub your toe, the birds eat your garden, or when a wee child tries to independently change their own poopy diaper, wipes & all. Those are the times these vulgar gems are the only vocabulary words known in your brain & ready at such instances.
Hence Son's new selection that I'm desperately trying to remedy without too much attention.
"Damn birds."
Every time I have to squeeze my lips together in a tight line to not crack a giggle because he says it like a farmer with such conviction & disdain.
At least he doesn't quite understand a lot of words yet. Like yesterday when we were in the car & a commercial was advertising chicken breasts. He giggles in the backseat as I wince. He can't possibly know what breasts are. Can he? We call 'em boobies in our house anyway.
"Mom... that guy said chicken breath!"
Exhale... & then a loud, loud laugh. Son's awesome.
