I never realized how much our lives would change when my daughter learned how to read. For one thing, there's no more spelling out stuff we don't want her to hear. Which sort of s-u-c-k-ses. But it also means that she can entertain herself and understand directions like never before.
However, now might be a good time to hide some of my own reading material.
I remember being about her age and picking up one of my mom's books to read. To this day, I remember the first line I read.
"I'll kiss your fucking ass in the middle of Main Street."
And a potty mouth was born.
My husband put my daughter to bed last night. I heard him sing the goodnight song, and then he came bounding down the stairs, obviously excited about something.
"Look at what your daughter is reading! Here. Right here. Read this paragraph."
So I read.
"Mrs. Rogers was angry.
She was very angry.
She opened her mouth.
Mrs. Rogers meant to tell Amelia Bedelia she was fired.
But before she could get the words out, Mr. Rogers put something in her mouth.
It was so good Mrs. Rogers forgot about being angry."
And I'm worried about her reading my romance novels! Sheesh.
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