I'm not sure of blogging rules but I wanted to post this and while it happened this weekend I'm a little slow and it didn't really fit with my last post.
I want to start this out by making sure that you all know that a few months ago my son had a one night cussing spree. He was dropping the f bomb and Andy and I had a long talk with him about how those words weren't nice, and how he should never say them. The talk was great and Ben comforted me by letting me know that when we're both older (Ben and me) we can say those words. The point is that Andy and I have been very careful about cussing at home. We actually don't anymore and if I even say "shut up" not as a command but as a exclamation to someone Ben let's me know that I'm not supposed to say that, I'm supposed to say "chill out."
Anyway, this brings me to this weekend. As Ben and I were leaving beautiful Warsaw, KY Ben told me he wanted a treat. He was grumpy and tired and the fact that I told him we had to wait to get to a gas station to get a treat did not appease him. I kept telling him I was going to get him one and he kept screaming for one. Finally, without really thinking about what I was saying I said "I'm going to get you a treat dammit." Appropriate? I know it wasn't, but Ben's response? "I'm not dammit, I'm Ben"...priceless.
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