Watch your language, please!

Earlier this week Andrew caught me off-guard when I was reading a book out loud to him. He stopped me in the middle of the page and said, "Mommy! You said a bad word!" Of course, we happened to be in sacrament metting and he of course said it loud enough for everyone around us to hear. What was this terrible swear word found lurking in the pages of David and Goliath? I can't type it of course but here is a clue: st*p*d. Yep, thats the one that I shall be forever judged by for swearing in church. On the one hand, I am certainly glad that in his mind, that is as bad as it gets. And that he doesn't say it. On the other, well, now people around us think I have a potty mouth, in church no less. Ahh, my injured pride.

Lenna got off the bus today and said that some kids on the bus always say a bad word, and it makes her feel bad, and she was too embarrassed to tell on them because then she would have to say the word. But that it made her feel bad every time she heard it and that today they were even yelling it so it hurt her ears. Well, you can imagine my over-reaction. I was ready to call the school and complain about the lack of discipline on the bus, give up an hour of my free time in the afternoon to go back to the dreaded carpool line to protect her innocent little ears, and start wallowing in the mother guilt that comes with selfishly sending my child on the bus just to save time and gas for myself. Thankfully, Lenna dug up the courage to whisper the offending word to me, after I promised she wouldn't get in trouble. Ready? Here it is: s*ut *p! I had to keep from laughing with relief that the worst she could do was that. And of course dread the inevitable a few years from now when the burning in her ears is justified.

Oh, to let them be little for just a while longer!