So my husband, the so-called better driver, seems to get closer and closer to the passenger-side mirror every time he pulls in and out of the garage. Coming from someone who just last fall destroyed her Focus’ passenger-side mirror on the garage, I know what I’m talking about.
Well, last night (Thursday) we had to go out because I was out of coffee filters.
We all piled into the Jeep and Ray, who was driving, backed up, catching the passenger-side mirror on the garage door wall, cracking it back in half.
We have been trying these last few months to carefully watch our language in front of the 2-year-old daughter, who has a tendency to repeat everything we say. So Ray and I both stayed absolutely quiet (I was actually suppressing a bit of a "told-you-so" giggle, but there were no four-letter words on my lips).
And then … ?
Lola: "%&$#!" (The "F" version.) With emphasis.
So not only have we managed to teach the blond-haired girl who dreams of being a princess bad words, but apparently we have also managed to teach her the correcting timing for using said bad words.
Sigh. And we thought we were doing so well...
Have a nice weekend.
- Bethany :)