I took the baby to lunch, today. Come to think of it, we have gone to lunch everyday this week. A private party for the two of us since the girlies are back in school. She slept until almost 2, so we missed the lunch crowd. Thank goodness.
I have a really annoying habit of naming everything she picks up, points toward, or grunts at. It's a nervous tic. She grabbed ahold of my fork and started stirring the contents of my plate.
"Fork," I said and instantly regretted it.
"Fruck." She repeated and beamed.
"FORk." I enunciated.
"Fruck. Fruck. Fruck." My bright eyed, curly sue was cursing at me in triplicate.
She held the utensil up to the man sweeping the floor, "Fruck."
The frat boys at the table across the room started to snigger.
I just smiled.
"what the fruck."