Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Me and my Potty Mouth (Rated R for Language)

If you know me in Real Life, or if you've been reading my blog for a while, then you know that I have a slight problem with cursing too much. I knew that this was going to be an issue from the moment I saw that second pink line.

I've been trying to be good. I try really hard. I curse a lot less than I used to, for sure. But apparently it hasn't been enough of an effort.

Charlie's newest habit is to ask us to say things - "Mom, say 'cell phone tower'" or "Can you say 'grasshopper?'" I'm not really sure why, but it's probably residual from when we used to ask him to say things when he was just starting to talk. Maybe he thinks that's just what people do - walk around asking people to repeat words after them.

Last week, Charlie hung out with some of his friends while the parents went to Zootini. We picked him up around 8:30. He likes to listen to music in the car, so we had the radio on. He was singing along with whatever was on at the moment (of course, I can't remember, being that we were at Zootini that night), and then all of a sudden he stopped and said "What the fuck?"

Dead silence from me and husband C, while we exchanged "OMFG, did he really just say that?" looks.

He continued, "Mom, can you say 'what the fuck?' can you say 'what the fuck,' mom?" And what do you even say to that? I was laughing so hard I almost pissed myself. And of course I was trying not to laugh, and, more importantly, not to let him see me laugh, but it was just too much. It was awful. I'm in tears of laughter just thinking about it.

So, yeah, I guess I need to be more careful. Again.

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