Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.
What do you get when one and three go to war? Lot’s of flying fists, hurt feelings and exhausted referees.
Into every new year a little profanity must fall and who better to give it to you than Il Duce? The shock value of naughty words spilling forth from tiny lips never lessens, but even I drew a sharp breath upon hearing his newly acquired profane utterance.
If you want an extreme reaction, make sure to call me a bitch.
If you want to make me cry watch my five-year old learn and use that word.
Number one and number three are forces of nature that suck the air out of every room they enter creating a vacuum that few escape. Sandwiched between these two is my gentle sweet heart who has learned to weather the storm and keep his head down.
Powerful personalities battle it out over Tokyo
Today I listened to all three call each other that word and waited for the piss poor parenting paddy wagon to pull up and cart me off.
Good work mom.
One too many viewings of the housewives of whatever county happen to be on and the word became legend over here where potty mouth is far too prevalent and three bars of lye soap are in demand now.
Little assholes.
I thought for sure the next line was going to be “spelled E-L-L-Y.” Little fuckers. Good luck with that.
There have already been several family friends positively scandalized by this. They were not around for the “fuckers!” stage.
oh holy shit….do not let your kids near me EVER. Bitch will be the least of your worries.
This is my PSA to you!
He went from “Fuckers” to “idiots” for about two months and we were dancing around like “we’ve seen actual improvement!” then he let it rip while he was pulling a Muhammad Ali on his sister who was clearly Joe Frasier that day and the rest was history.
It didn’t help that when I heard I screamed “what the fuck did you say!?”
whatever you do, don’t send them to confession. the language will just get more colorful. (and who doesn’t like that.)
His last trip NEAR a church was a disaster.
He kept yelling that the Jesus statue looked “angry” and then he made up a crazy chant that went like this-
“I am angry Jesus man
running over bad kids in the god van.”
My middle son laughed after he finished making the sign of the cross to protect his own soul.
That boy is no fool.
Liguid soap works good too.
And the bubbles are hilarious.
I’m trusting that these bubbles don’t pop and say “bitch!”
I’ve got nothing. I bargained with a friend of The Narcissist recently. He’s not my kid, so I can’t really just forbid him from using the phrase, “That’s so gay.” Instead, I traded him, he no longer uses gay, but now gets to use douche, which I banned last summer. All of them(there were six teenage boys sitting here at the time) were all very impressed with the negotiations. It was a lesson on sensitivity, politics and “how to keep me from punching you in the fucking face”. Which, sadly, was my final tactic, and sealed the deal.
When he was tiny I used to threaten to turn on super loud appliances (he hated loud noises) so he would run out of the room yelling “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t say it again!”
Wait that sounds like an afterschool special about abusive mothers..
What I mean is that my leverage has evaporated so I’m pretty much in the same boat with the “I’m going to have to ask you to stop or I’ll have to punch you in the fucking face” type of case scenario.
Man, that sounded bad too since he’s only five.
Okay social services, I gave him a stern warning, we hugged and then magical bunnies jumped into the air above us and farted out colorful confetti!
Yay parenthood!
I am the foul mouthed motherfucker in this household so I can relate. Although for some reason my kids never repeat what I say.
Maybe I need to get their hearing checked.