I was driving Anabella to preschool one day last week and as we pulled into the parking lot she said, “F*cking car!”
Very calmly, I asked (just in case I heard it wrong) “What did you say?”
“F*CKING CAR!”
As I silently try to figure out what to do next, she added “It means get out of the way.” (Ha. Like I didn’t know that.)
I instantly knew she learned that from me, because while Dan does have some rage, it’s not road rage. The sad part was that I couldn’t recall saying it … I guess I was just muttering obscenities under my breath.
So as an experiment in self-actualization, I’ve started recording my outbursts (repeats of my outbursts) on my iPhone and well, it is not pretty. I’ll provide a recap at the end of the week, but let’s just say that someone might need an anger-management class if she doesn’t want to raise a bunch of potty mouths.
Silly you… you don't need to record your outbursts… Anabelle will do that for you. LOL
Last week I told Kev I felt like shit…
shit.
shit.
shit.
… is what my little recorder recorded.
shit.
yoga, or shooting a pillow with a 45. Sounds like either one would work 🙂
I drive 150 miles a day, I feel ya sistah.
What I would like to know is why is inevitable that any children within ear shot of a conversation will only repeat the naughty and/or embarrassing parts.