Last week over dinner, we were talking about the time and Kevin said, “Six o’clock.” Hmm, scintillating story so far, huh? Have you on the edge of your seats, right? Anyway, Brian says, “Fuck.” Kevin and I snicker but mostly ignore Brian. He says it again and again. Turns out he was trying to say, “Four o’clock,” and just forgot some of the sounds. Heh. You never forget your child’s first cuss word. When Max was a toddler, he would try to say fish, but it would come out, “bitch.” We would laugh and laugh, cuz we are totally immature like that.\
Earlier today I was watching Entourage and Ari yells, “Fuck you!” a bunch of times and Brian started imitating him, “Fuck you. Fuck you.”\
Yea, I am the best mommy ever.\
I have been so busy trying to organize, move, and sort through basement stuff that the other household chores are being neglected. My poor family. Lately my house looks like one of those horrible places that CPS goes into: dirty dishes stacked in the sink, cracker crumbs in the family room, used sippy cups lying about. Ewwwww.\
Ok, ok. The house usually looks like that except for the 20 minutes before my mom comes to visit. Usually I am too embarrassed to admit it!
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Funny. I remember my mother describing her trip to the toy store with my two-year-old nephew. She felt forced to carry him outside while he screamed, “I want to fruck, I want to fruck!” Seems that fruck was his word for truck.
It’s still funny and he’s 27 now. Drives his own fruck.