In honor of back to school, here’s one of my favorite moments from last school year.
I’m not a fan of profanity, but I am one of those people who rate it. In the hierarchy of cuss words, there are a few that are totally off-limits. We don’t say them, so naturally, our kids don’t know them.
The other day when I picked Kendra up from dance, she got in the car and told me rather dramatically, “Mom! So-and-so called So-and-so the f-word. That is really bad! And I don’t even know what the f-word is!”
“Yeah, that is really bad, Kendra. She should not have said that.”
“I know! It’s so bad!”
We continued our ride in silence for a few moments. And then came the question I hadn’t really considered how I would handle yet: “Mommy…what is the f-word?”
This was one of those moments for which you can never really be prepared. Do I tell my little seven-year-old what that awful word…
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