Last night, Kylie was lying in my bed and we were talking about Daddy being gone. I told her that she was going to have to be a big girl and help me out, and listen to me and her older sisters. She said she would, except for one thing:
"Mom, I don't want to listen to Shannon. She's a...well...you know...the 'b' word."
Oh Lord, I am going to kill whichever one of them taught her that little gem. I mean seriously, she's six years old! She shouldn't be thinking that word, or even know it or what it means. I'm gonna kill someone.
"Umm...the 'b' word? What word is that, sweetie?"
"Mom...I'm not supposed to say it. It's a bad word."
"It's ok, you can tell me, I won't be mad. What's the 'b' word?"
Whispering, she said,
"You know Mom...brat."
Oh. That 'b' word.
"You're right, honey. That's not a very nice word."