Monday, October 20, 2008
Franny was playing "peek-a-boo" last night with our black plastic cauldron. Her shirt says, "I love Mormon boys."
So a couple of weeks ago I was with the girls and something crazy happened. The kind of thing that makes a girl who's not the swearing type feel compelled to say, "What the hell?!" And since I can't remember what crazy thing happened a couple of weeks ago, you're just going to have to trust that my saying "What the hell?!" in front of my 4 1/2 year old was warranted and not report me to the authorities.
So here's how that went.
Something crazy happens.
Me, because I can't control it and I don't have a choice: "What the hell?!"
Franny says, "What the heCK?"
I think to myself, with an unsettling feeling of relief and shame, "Good Girl. Bad Mommy."
The other day I was getting Franny's lunch packed for school and I opened the freezer and a container of frozen raspberries fell and spilled all over my dirty kitchen floor.
"Dang it!!!" I said.
And then Franny said, "Damn it!"
Confusion sets in. A few seconds pass. "Wait... WHAT?"
Of two things I am sure of this morning. 1. My kitchen floor needs to be mopped. 2. I said "Dang it" that morning and not the other one.
Which leads me to my next question:
What the hell?!