the f bomb...

Friday night after Sarah had gotten home from the Philippines, I was outside at the grill putting the finishing touches on a good 'ol American cheeseburger dinner when the sliding glass door flew open. I looked up to see a horrified Sarah standing with a guilty Kyla. Sarah said, "Peter! We need to talk about something very serious. Kyla tell your daddy what you just said."

I looked at Kyla and asked her what she said. She looked up at me and replied, "when I get frustrated, I just said the word f*!#." Woah!!! Where in the world did that come from? I haven't said that word in about twelve years and I don't think my wife has ever said it in her entire life! We never watch movies with the kids other than Veggie Tales and the like. Last time I checked, Bob the Tomato has a pretty clean mouth. Talk about being blindsided! We had some serious conversation and tried to impart the seriousness of the offense to a confused four-year-old.

I mean, she used to get close to that word when she would sing "Where is funkin?" because she couldn't pronounce "th." But this is way different! She kind of let is slip again last night as she was saying some gibberish words being silly. Hopefully, she'll forget about the whole thing and we won't have to deal with it again...but who knows? We haven't figured out where she heard it and I'm guessing we probably never will. I guess as she enters preschool this fall, we'll be hitting even more of that kind of stuff.