A cursed week...

 

Well, it's been a week.

First there was the Great Christmas Tree Debacle of 2007, which you can read about here.

Then, the other day, Pete got in trouble. Biiiiiiig trouble.

Daniel and I had just dropped some mail off at the post office and were exiting the parking lot. A large semi was trying to maneuver around some other large trucks parked in the very small lot. I waited while he veeeery slowly negotiated the turns. At one point he was heading straight for us, but I reiterate that we were in no danger at all.

Then from the back seat I hear, "That f(unintelligible)n truck is in our way!"

I sit, blinking furiously for a moment, sure that I hadn't heard what I thought I heard. and then ask, "What did you say, Dan?"

"That f$#!ing truck is in our way!"

Oh.

My.

G-d.

What I'm thinking: "I can't fricking believe that he just said that! I NEVER say that in front of him! Dammit Pete! This is exactly what I've been telling you for four years, and why I told you that you weren't allowed to speak to him!"

"What I actually said:Honey, the truck is in our way. You don't need that other word."

Which, as most of you parents know, was a mistake. I was then treated to a chant of, "That f$#!ing truck! That f$#!ing truck! That f$#!ing truck!"

Ooooooooooooooooooh.

Then it entered my mind that he might say this at school. Or on the playground. Or at a playdate.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooy.

I took out my phone, called my husband and proceeded to tell him, very quietly, what had just occurred.

At least he was contrite.

To round out the week, Dan is sick. He didn't go to school yesterday and he won't go tomorrow. Poor bug.

I'm going to go kill Pete now.