"Mom? Mom? What is this? Can they say that?"
I knew she was working on English. I assumed her distress had something to do with one of the scary, irregular verbs both her and her teachers are always stumbling over. I was elbow deep in dinner preparations, and frankly not in the mood to be very helpful. I sighed impatiently, "For heaven's sake Emma. Just sound it out. One letter at a time. You'll get to it."
"I can't say that."
"Of course you can. One letter at a..."
"No. Mom. You wouldn't want me to say that word."
"What do you mean?"
So I did.
Now I ask you, what is the point of trying to teach them the difference between 'nice' words and 'naughty' words, when this is the shit they're learning from school? I know I should be outraged. And I probably will be just as soon as I can stop giggling about it.
Daniel, as usual, had the final word on the matter, "Well Mom, it makes sense. Sand is kind of annoying..."
It is a bitch, Boy. Damn right. It's a bitch!