My mom brought over my baby book and the few items of baby clothes she saved (a pink dress, a hand-knit sweater and bonnet and a sweet-ass 1970’s yellow track suit my Grandma Pat gave me). I flipped through the book and almost choked when I read that one of my favorite “cute sayings and phrases” was shit. My thoughts:
1.) OF COURSE IT WAS.
2.) What the hell kind of parents record that kind of thing in a Peter Rabbit Baby Book? Oh wait. I just remembered who my parents are. Nevermind.
3.) What the hell kind of parents record this and DON’T think, “Hey, maybe we should dial back the swearing around our wee impressionable precious baby girl?” Oh wait. I just remembered who my parents are. Nevermind.
Ed, ever the optimist, thought maybe it was a mistake. “You were probably trying to say something like ‘sheep'” Uh, no, dude. No. It was most definitely Baby CKD swearing (see aforementioned parents and also my Grandpa who had ZERO filter or ability to edit himself, goddamn it) – probably because she lost another motherfucking Lego in the brown shag carpet. Ed realized I was right, and that he had married someone who has always spoken like she is in the middle of a Tourrette’s fit.