We were playing with the kids last night before dinner and one of them had brought into our room an old stuffed bunny that had been mine as a child. Mr. Bunny is well worn but still has most of his stuffing. Marty was moving his ears at different angles like old TV antennae and talking to himself in sing-song.
Marty: Crap, Crap, Crappy head.
I looked at my husband to see if he heard the same thing I did.
Marty: Crap, Crap, Crappy head.
Me: Marty, what did you say?
Marty: Crap!
Me: Do you remember that we talked about that word and why we don’t use it? It is a nasty word for ‘poop’. Please don’t say it.
Marty: Well then what is the word for like something broken?
Me: You mean ‘cracked’?
Marty: Yeah! Crack, Crack, Crackhead. He is a Crackhead.
Maybe I should just leave well enough alone!
