We got up early today. Well the Doctor always gets up super early. But Matt and the Doctor went bike-riding early. And about 5 minutes after they left, Tiny wanted to go meet them. So after my request of "five more minutes" in the toasty warm bed with seventy-eleven layers, we clambered out of bed. Half-dressed and hot footed it to surprise the boys.
It was wet and cold in the park. We found our boys and decided to go have a hot chocolate before coming back to enjoy the park. Maybe when the wet had dissipated. Ahem.
Tiny and I were perched at the cafe, drinking our hot chocolate and flat white respectively, when I spotted the boys. I said: "Tiny, I see the boys spying on us." To which Tiny so eloquently replied with an F-bomb.
It's not the first time.
I've promptly gone into swearing rehab. I've gone cold-turkey on swearing, given my 3.5 year old swears so appropriately. And sometimes not so.
One morning before school, the Doctor and she had been having some biffo. She walked into me while I was getting dressed and said: "F*** man."
My swear word of choice now? Supercalifragilisticexpialadocious. Or however it's spelt. Trying saying that when you're furious.
Tiny, I'm sorry you have a PottyMouth. And it's my fault.
But how about those magnolias. That blue sky. AYE CARUMBA! (How was that for changing the subject?)