What the HELL?

While the kids were watching television this evening, I heard, "What the hell is....blah, blah, blah?" (Everything after the initial 'what the hell' is a blur because I stopped listening after that.)

Seriously.

"What the hell?"

That came out of the mouth of my five year old.

His response after his father told him that we don't speak that way? "What?! All I said was 'hell.'"

I just felt another hair a few more hairs turn gray. There goes my "Mother of the Year" award this Mother's Day.

In my defense, I really DO have good children who are well-mannered and polite and who do NOT use foul language except at very random moments (like the one described above) when one child (usually my boy) uses a foul word (in context no less!). This does not in any way, shape or form indicate that I am a neglectful, unfit mother. Yes, I cuss like a sailor and, yes, I should drop a quarter in a jar every time I use a nasty

word, but I take comfort in knowing that the infrequency of these occurrences really reinforces the fact that I am a damn good mother.