Nate & I have realized pretty quickly that we’re nearing that time.  That time when nothing we say is sacred or safe.  That time when Harrison begins repeating everything.  He has “hey” down pat.  Along with nana, momma, dada, & some form of “no” for Tuck (ha!) & it won’t be too long until “arsehole” is added to that repertoire if we don’t start watching our language.

Or even worse, “effing arsehole.”

It’s not that we’re the world’s worst potty-mouths.  I promise.  But Nate & I have both been known to drop bombs even in casual conversation & not only is it unladylike & ignorant-sounding, but I’m also pretty sure that Jesus wouldn’t approve.  Granted, most of my cursing includes the word’s “damn” & “ass,” which can both be found in the Bible.  & I’m certain that Jesus has enough to think about other than my occasional profanity, given the state of nuclear weapons in this world.

& I’m pretty sure that Jesus would be happy to sit on an ass & drink a glass of merlot with me & discuss the sins that REALLY matter, like how I used to get really, really drunk in college or that time I called that girl from high school a walking STD.

But it’s not like it’s my fault she was dripping gonorrhea & Forever 21.

ANYWAY.

So this past week, we’ve come up with a system – $1.00 into Harrison’s piggy bank every time we curse.  Nate was all like, “Baby, that sounds pretty steep” & I’m all, “Darling, this is our child’s FUTURE we are talking about, let’s set the stakes high.”  So we shook on it & promised our child that from now on, nothing but lilting lovely sounds of harmony will reach his innocent little ears.

That lasted thirty minutes.  Because someone (me) hadn’t gone to the store to fulfill someone’s (me again) duty of purchasing coffee for our Keurig & so we were forced to wait in line at Dunkin Donuts because a) the line to McDonald’s is far too long & b) I have to have coffee by 7am to function.  We pull out of Dunkin Donuts, coffee in hand, no donut for me….& hit school traffic.

Nate y elled out the F-dash-dash-dash word.  You know the one.

I gasped.

& we started a talley.

By the end of yesterday, Nate had 9 offenses.  I had 4.  We bumped it down to $0.25 per offense.  Because that shit’s getting expensive.

::sighs & marks the talley sheet::