I should blog...

...before it turns Sunday. Because a full week of non-blogging is clearly unacceptable. Since the half liter of coke and large McDonald's fries I just consumed seem to have (at least temporarily) cured my 3-day headache, maybe I can tell you a quick story.

(Seriously, this child better be lovely when it comes out to make up for all this unloveliness. Throwing up each morning the last 2 days was apparently not enough unloveliness. I needed a headache too. I never get headaches.)

...

I say "oh my gosh, " apparently. I didn't really know that I said it, but I'm not sure where else Josiah would have picked it up from. I obviously don't have a problem with the phrase in general (since I say it) but it sounds absurd coming from the tiny mouth of a 2-year-old.

So we've told him he can't say it. We've instructed him to say "oh my goodness" or "oh my" instead. He has seemed to accept these new phrases and I've heard him say "oh my" in exclamation at something. Much cuter.

But he apparently knows that these new phrases are not as fun and has approached both Nathan and I at different times to timidly ask, "Please may I say 'oh my gosh?'" I love the fact that he asks. And so politely, too. But I hate the fact that he is so very drawn to something that we've told him he can't do. Little sinner.

Of course, maybe it would help if I could remember not to say it. But when a child consumes nearly an entire bag of microwave popcorn and his poop the next morning is very much evidence of that fact, what am I supposed to say?!

...