On Saturday night, the kids got home and we read a lot from
To Kill A Mockingbird.
(We were in the heat of the trial and it was getting intense.)
When I stopped reading, we were all clustered at the bottom of the stairs talking.
And I don't know what I was doing, but at one point, Isaiah said,
"Mom, are you hearing this? Did you hear what Claire just said?!"
I looked at him quizzically. No, I hadn't heard.
"She just called Benji a butthole."
Special.
From my cute, sweet, hilarious 4-year-old.
A few minutes later, she was laying back in my arms on my lap as we were all still sitting there and I looked down and said quietly,
"Claire, don't say butthole."
And she said,
"Okay."
It's a term she's no doubt heard from her brothers---so I told them, again, that I don't want them using that word.
(I've always hated that word.)
I told them it was gross and beneath them.
But since we're talking about telling kids not to say stuff, let's talk about that one time last week when I was telling my boys not to swear. I was standing there in the kitchen, and as the words were coming out of my mouth, I realized what a joke it was because I've become quite fond of saying hell. Awesome.
(#motherhoodforthewin)
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