N started swearing a few weeks ago. OK, it was one swear one time. Still.
I was at my sister's house and we were looking for a cast listing for the Rainbow Stage production of Peter Pan, since my sister and her kids knew someone in it. We couldn't find anything on the RS website, so we went to Facebook. Looking up "Peter Pan" gave a lot of results. My niece S found one funny and read it out loud:
"When I grow up I want to be Peter Pan... oh sh*t"
N was nursing, and when S finished reading the group name, he stopped nursing, smiled, said "Sh*t" and then latched on again.
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A 6-year-old and a 4-year-old are upstairs in their bedroom. "You know what?" says the 6-year-old. "I think it's about time we start cussing." The 4-year-old nods his head in approval. The 6-year-old continues. "When we go downstairs for breakfast I'm going to say hell and you say ass."
"OK!" The 4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.
Their mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6-year-old what he wants for breakfast. "Aw hell, Mom, I guess I'll have some Cheerios."
WHACK! He flies out of his chair, tumbles across the kitchen floor, gets up, and runs upstairs crying his eyes out, with his mother in hot pursuit, slapping his rear every step. The mom locks him in his room and shouts "You can just stay there till I let you out!"
She then comes back downstairs, looks at the 4-year-old, and asks with a stern voice, "And what do YOU want for breakfast young man?
"I don't know," he blubbers, "But you can bet your ass it won't be Cheerios!"
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