Naomi, frustrated, comes upstairs from the basement. I'd heard her scolding the cats down there. Sorting laundry is a thankless enough task without the cats mucking the whole thing up. She scolded them with a profane phrase I hadn't heard from her lips before.
Me: You upset?
Naomi: Yes.
Me: The cats?
Naomi: Stupid cats.
Me: Did I hear you call them little 5h!ts while you were downstairs?
Naomi: You call them that sometimes.
Me: I do. [pause] I wonder if both of us couldn't do better on that score?
Naomi: Fine.
Me: Thanks, babe.
Naomi: Sure. [pause] I think it's a bad example you've set here, mom. You know, with that kind of language.
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2 comments:
i better start a swear jar....now.
Obviously I hadn't cut back on my profanity as much as I'd thought.
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