Gwennie: Momma, I just read your last blog on the pooter.
Me: Which one?
Gwennie: The one where you said piss.
Me: (giggle) Okay?
Gwennie: Boy are you gonna get hell from Grandma when she reads that.
Me: Nah. I don’t think so. She’s got a pretty good sense of humor. After all, she was married to my father for 26 years. She’ll probably laugh and call me a snot and that will be that.
Gwennie: You know you really shouldn’t use that f@#$ing language.
Me: Watch your mouth!
Gwennie: Well if that isn’t the f@#$ing pot calling the kettle black.
Gwennie: What?! Why are you yelling at me? I’m just following the piss-poor example you set.
Me: Grandma doesn’t like that word!
Gwennie: That didn’t stop you from using it.
Me: I’m an adult.
Gwennie: Right. So you should know better.
Gwennie: You’re not gonna teach the Little Thing to talk are you?
Gwennie: Oh dear.
Gwennie: The phone’s gonna ring off the hook with angry parents because of the words he’s gonna say at school.
Me: I’m not going to teach him those words.
Gwennie: You don’t have too. All you have to do is take out the trash or drive in rush hour traffic and he’ll learn.
Gwennie: What?! I’m just being honest. What are you going to do when you get those phone calls?
Me: I’m not going to get those phone calls because he’s not going to learn those words.
Gwennie: Maybe we should get a second phone line. The first can be for regular phone calls the other can be a complaint line for angry parents.
Me: Oh for the love of Oreos!
Gwennie: You might want to switch to a bar of Zest.
Me: Dare I ask?
Gwennie (singing): You’re not fully clean unless your mouth is zest fully clean!
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