Dirty words.

Recently, after church, Boy Child climbed into the back of the car looking very forlorn.

I asked him what was the matter and he looked down and muttered,

"I said a bad word at church".

Immediately my heart began to race because I was assuming the Boy referred to someone as a douchenugget or an assfaced whore or something. Not that I would have any idea where he would hear such things or anything. But still.

So, swallowing hard, I asked him:

"What did you say?"

He sighed and his eyes filled with tears.

"I said Catholic".

Relief flooded my veins. Along with hysterical laughter. I kept the laughter inside though and concentrated on the relief.

"Catholic is not a bad word honey," I told him.

Jason was having more trouble keeping the hysterical laughter in check, but he did manage to reassure the boy that it wasn't a bad word and he would tell him all about what being Catholic means later.


We rode in silence for a moment and I heard Boy Child say to Girl Child,

"I'm glad I didn't say ass!"


Me too Boy Child. Me too.