Earlier this week Ellie was singing a Lady Gaga song (Lady Gaga has become quite popular in this house and is heard at various times of day throughout the day).
"I'm a fwee biwtch," she sang out.
"Ellie, that's not a very nice word, so even though she sings it, I don't want you to say it," I told her.
"What word?" asked Jeff.
"Oh, the free part," I tried to say nonchalantly.
"What, I'm a free bench?" he asked again, obviously puzzled as to what was bad about a bench.
"No, Jeff, not bench - BITCH!" yelled Ellie.
So much for not saying it.
Then today I was trying to help Jefferson work out a conflict with a friend. The friend had gone home temporarily, and Jeff was very upset by what had happened. I suggested to him he view it from the friend's point of view - if that friend did to Jeff what Jeff had done to that friend, how would Jeff feel? "I'd feel like calling him the S-Word!" he proclaimed. Just as I was mildly freaking out that apparently my son knows words I didn't think he knew, he continued, "Whatever the S-Word is. I don't know."
Bwah ha ha!