Yes, I am a Potty Mouth

I don't say it proudly; it's just a fact. I could blame my parents for it, but I've already blamed them for so much I guess I can give them a break on this one.

Last week, my three-year-old daughter and I settled into bed for her afternoon nap. Only seconds passed before the phone rang. It was my husband. We chatted for a few minutes. It must have seemed like an eternity to the little girl laying next to me because she began singing, "Shit, shit, shit."

Stifling laughter, I whispered into the phone, "Can you hear her?"

"No, what is she saying?" my husband replied.

"She's singing s-h-i-t over and over."

He chuckles before asking, "What are you going to do?"

"Ignore her."

But, like most kids, she would not be ignored. She continued to chant that melodious four-letter word, which I'm sure she learned from me, until I finally hung up the phone. I then explained to her that we shouldn't use that particular word because it isn't polite.

"But you say it."

What was I to do? She was right. So, I struck a deal--we would do our best not to use that word anymore. Satisfied, she drifted off to sleep. As we snuggled together under the warm, fluffy blankets I remembered my father's favorite saying, "Shit and two is ninety-four."

I guess I can still blame my parents.