I was reminded this evening of the time when Kat was about four and asked us for a "damn washcloth." Our jaws dropped. Where did our sweet daughter get a mouth like that?!
"What?!" we insisted. Had our ears deceived us? "A damn washcloth," sweet Katherine (as we called her then) replied. "I need one, please."
Just as we were about to reprimand her, she took a washcloth from the kitchen drawer and asked, "Can you put water on it? I need it damn."
And I've never heard a cuss word from her since! (Not... many.)
No comments:
Post a Comment