Not sure what precipitated this, but Alli & I have had several conversations this week about “bad words”. I believe a friend in her dance camp told her that using bad words makes God cry (I am going to bite my tongue and hold my comment on that one, at least for now). At any rate, it stirred up a lot of thinking in that little head, and some wonderful ongoing conversations about beliefs, religion, tolerance, kindness and personal choices.
Today’s unsolicited commentary:
“Mommy, do you want to know what bad words I know?”
“I think I know 3.”
“One starts with an ‘f’, one starts with an ‘h’, and one starts with ‘sh’.”
Such a proud parenting moment.