The F Word

It finally happened.  Peter came home from school and informed me that he had learned a bad word. The F word. 

Of course I had to ask what F word, because for all I knew he meant "fart" (he still believes the S word is "stupid").

This time, he knew the REAL word. "F-U-C-K," he spelled for me, "what does it mean?"

I choose to parent through internet searches, so we headed to Urban Dictionary. After reading the many definitions (skipping over the sex stuff) he seemed to get it. 

"So instead of saying 'I really love you' I could say 'I F-U-C-K-I-N-G love you'?"

"Yep... But we don't say that word," then the devil on my other shoulder spoke up, "actually, Peter, you can say it ONE time. Go say that sentence to daddy. Then never use that word again until you're a grown up."

Because seeing the look on Brett's face when that word came out of his 7 year old's mouth not only put the fear of God in Peter but it was also highly entertaining for me. And that's what is really important.