E could teach a sailor a thing or two. Annoyed with the constant seepage from him nose, he followed a sneeze with a wizened "God damn it" the other day. It came as no surprise to us. Ok, taking the Lord's name in vain was a bit surprising, but nothing like the education he gave my in-laws over Christmas.
I walked into the room to hear E explaining, "there is a very bad word that we don't say and it is called the B-word." Uh-oh... please, please not here. E went on, "And my mom says we shouldn't say it and it goes 'fuck it.'"
"That's not the B-word," chimed Jax.
"Did he just say..." my mother-in-law looked to my father-in-law.
"And my mom says it's really bad and we don't say it." Continued E. All the while Frankie just sat there frozen like maybe if he didn't move it didn't happen.
"That is much worse than the B-word. That is the mother of all curse words." Jax said.
"I think he did." Said my mother-in-law.
That all took about 3 seconds. 3 seconds of living hell in which all I could think was please, please, please don't say "and my mommy says it all the time."
"Yes, E, that isn't a nice word and we don't say it. We have better words to express our emotions."
"Mom, that wasn't the B-word."
No, the B-word wouldn't have been nearly as bad.
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