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- Nov 7, 2005
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WHEN TO START CUSSING
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 started cussing.' The 4 year old nods his head in approval. The 6 year old continues, 'When we go downstairs for breakfast, I'm gonna say something with hell and you say something with ass.'
The 4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.
When the mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6 year old what he wants for breakfast, he replies, '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 with every step. His mom locks him in his room and shouts, 'You can stay there until 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 fat ass it won't be Cheerios!'
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 started cussing.' The 4 year old nods his head in approval. The 6 year old continues, 'When we go downstairs for breakfast, I'm gonna say something with hell and you say something with ass.'
The 4 year old agrees with enthusiasm.
When the mother walks into the kitchen and asks the 6 year old what he wants for breakfast, he replies, '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 with every step. His mom locks him in his room and shouts, 'You can stay there until 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 fat ass it won't be Cheerios!'
- and of course, I was ranting at him. I kind of joked and told him that if I were to ever to see him flipping his finger at me again, I'll get the scissor to cut his finger off. Of course, I wasn't going to do it for real - I only said that to "scare" him not to do that again. He has not once flipped his finger at me again ever since. He now knows that it is wrong to do it.