Mouth like a sailor. Potty mouth. Gettin' it washed out with soap. Don't talk like that around your mother. Pardon my French (ha, this one is really true - Roger IS French). Watch your language....
The list goes on.
My two girls are pretty girls. Not that I am biased. They are put together. They wear clean clothes and have their hair combed. They brush their teeth and are polite.
At least that is the facade that I fell in.
On the playground, Quinn is running around and climbing the bridge to go down the slide. Her dainty foot slips and out of her mouth come...."oh nuts!". hmmmm
She is playing at home when one of her polly pockets is not co-operating with the intense story line and plot that is unfolding. Out of her precious, kissable lips comes....."oh, SNAP!"
She is coming to the dinner table, hands washed, ready to tackle any food that comes her way, sees that is is NOT pasta and out of her lips comes....."oh dang".
That is just my youngest. On to the older, wiser, more worldly one.
Oh the language in my house.
At least they both say please and thank you. And apologize to me after the bad language.
What would my heart do if I had boys?