I forgot to write a post this morning.
I skipped the gym, also.
Monday's are the cruelest...
I'll relay this little incident:
Rhys and I were in the car the other day. I might have been mumbling to myself.
There were a few seconds of silence.
"Why did you say 'Fuck', Daddy?"
"What did you ask me, Rhys?
"Why did you say 'Fetch'?"
"It's okay Rhys, what word are you saying?"
"Fetch."
"I'm not sure why I said that Rhys. But I'll try not to say it again, okay?"
Oh, it was Fuck. I heard it the first time, then he got shy about asking.
I've never been great at watching what I say around kids. I try.
Two and a half years old, a little milestone has been passed.
He can count to ten, also.
Fuck.
