My husband says our kids are going to learn to cuss from me. Now before I go any further, let me defend myself by saying, I don't cuss. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't cuss. In this particular case, my husband is referring to words like "crap."
"Crap, crap, crap! This is going to taste like crap!" ...is what I yelled when I realized I had forgotten to set the timer on the meatball subs I had in the oven. They were supposed to broil for 2 minutes. Because I had not set the time, I forgot about them until, "what's that smell?" and so then ensued the "cussing" my hus referred to.
So, Elliott is 3 and quite the repeater. Like, word for word repeater. Immediately after the "cuss" fest, she sing songs, "cRaP", in such a cute little, inoffensive tone.
The hilarity came at the dinner table, while we were eating said burned food. As I was munching away on my meatball sub, of which I had scrapped off the black parts and was actually pretty tasty, Elliott, watching me says, "See, that doesn't taste like crap!"
Oh goodness.
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