We Also Don't Say

A few months ago bebe boy and I were in Texas visiting the family including my nieces, G and A, who were 4 and almost 3 at the time. My mom and I decide to haul all three kiddoes out for lunch which, by the way, went splendidly (bribing tots with La Madeleine's Strawberries Romanoff works wonders. Hell, bribing ME to behave with Strawberries Romanoff works wonders). We had to take two cars since three car seats is a logistical nightmare and, as I have blogged about before, car seats and I have some bad juju between us.

The girls insist on riding with me since I 1) "will crank up Pink" and 2) "drive faster than Bamo (Grandma) and we like going fast. You know, like Daddy drives." These are absolutely their quotes. Please don't ask me why little people are listening to Pink and can sing along.

So, in the car G wants to play the echo game. Oh, seriously, don't make me play that. Repeating the same phrase over and over is not even close to being enjoyable or even tolerable. However, because I am Aunt Fabulous, I concede. Quickly, I realize that G (the 4 year old) is simply trying to goad her younger sister into saying something she should not. The trap is set by G and in dawdles A, totally unsuspecting.

G: What the?
me: What the?
A: What the?

G: What the?
me: What the?
A: What the?

G: What the?
me: What the?
A: What the heck?

G: Oooohhhhh, we don't say "heck" in this family. Do we Aunt Joy?
me: No, we don't say "heck."

G: We also don't say shithead, Aunt Joy.