Milestone

Today, my 10 and 7 year olds learned the F-word.

10 and 7? Not bad, if you ask me.

I wasn't there to witness this milestone, but Mark told me all about it. They (with Mark) went to the library to turn in this week's sheet for the summer reading program. While driving through the downtown area, our 7-year-old noted the graffiti.

"Hey Daddy, there are 3 gangs here: P.O.E., Tooku, and Fuk." (So the vandals can't spell. Give them a break.)

So, Mark texts me and says he's going to have to "address some issues."

Soon after, I get this text: "They now know what not to say."

To which I replied: "You told them?"

His response?

"Had to. They're chanting songs and telling stories about P.O.E. going to get some F-- with Tooku. They left me very little choice."

And then this:

"I didn't tell them what it meant. Only that it's really bad."

Lost innocence. It sucks.

Though it was funny hearing Mark later tell me how he tried to tell them it's bad without laughing. Their songs already had him stifling laughter before he started his, uh, teaching moment.