Things I Can't Say Anymore

If I had instituted a curse jar for every inappropriate thing I've said since I had kids, I could have an Aston Martin sitting in my driveway by this point. Add in the car trips and long lines at the grocery store, and my kids' vocabularies now include such kid-unfriendly phrases as "Hey! Is the light gonna get any greener?" or "We're waaaaaaaiittttiiiiiing ..." screamed out the backseat windows.

I'm making myself stupid repeating things I want them to hear 622 times ("Please brush your teeth" and "We do not wear underwear on our heads"), but I might as well be speaking a foreign language.

Meanwhile, I utter one phrase they maybe shouldn't have heard (to my friend ... on the telephone ... when the kids were immersed in an episode of "The Fresh Beat Band" ...) and they memorize it like it's their sole line in the school play.

Evidence? My son looking at our minister after church on Sunday and saying, "Sunday School was fine, I guess. Just more stuff about, you know, God and Jesus. Like always. But Mommy loves it, because she gets two hours of free babysitting."

Thanks, sweetie.