I guess I need to watch my mouth.

DH was on call for the second weekend in a row (meaning he has not had a single day off since June 23rd -- and he won't have one until July 12th), but he promised Uno he'd take us to breakfast at her favorite café on Saturday morning if he could. We got there (having taken separate cars, just in case), we ordered, and just as our waitress brought us our drinks DH was called back to the hospital.

After he left, Uno sighed. "Daddy had to go to freaking damn work when all he wanted to do was relax."

"It's not nice to say damn," I told her.

"Oh yeah. Sorry."

D'oh! I'm not really a potty mouth, I promise, but I guess I do use the "Bible swears" occasionally. And apparently in front of the children. Oops.

Still, though I'm not thrilled with that word coming from her 5yo mouth, I do have to agree with her sentiment: Freaking damn work.


~RCH~