Yesterday:
Q: "Mom, is 'dumbass' a bad word?"
Me: "What?"
Q: "Is-- ohhhhh I get it, dumb ASS. Yeah, that's a bad word."
Today:
I think I said the word "crap," as in, "If there wasn't so much CRAP in your room, that would have been easier to find."
Q got excited, and I thought it was because he was going to say I owed him money for cursing. He might have been going to say that, but then he said, "Hey, Mom... can we curse, since just you are me are home? Like, if no one else is home, can you and I curse?" He looked so hopeful. I have to admit, it sounded kind of fun, but of course I couldn't agree to that.
Me: "No, that's probably not a good idea."
Him: "The other day, I almost said a bad word, but I said 'FUNK.' I said 'funk' instead of 'fuck.' Oh shoot!"
Mom, it's so unfair. All of Gregory's things are hand-him-downs. They're all from Roderick.
- Q, May 2017
Looking at photos with my parents. April 2017.
Q: Awwwww. Why could I not time travel... and fix everything that's wrong with my hair.
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