Fire, Frog and a pejorative

Fire. Bill got the fireplace in order for the upcoming frosty cold nights. It turned out to be a great distraction for the boy (e.g. Put down the knife and look at the fire. e.g. Stop hitting your Mom and look at the fire. You see where I’m going with this.) He was amazed and concerned by the blaze in the fireplace. He sits three feet back and says “Hot! Hot!” He curls right up on mama or papa’s lap, wraps the grownup arm around his waist and stares.

Frog. I was encouraged on by Bill to toss the food scraps since I had left some food in there last week and it was growing fuzzy. Yuck! Collin and I wondered out to the yard waste to dispose of the food scraps and lone behold there was a frog sitting right on the YW lid. Most likely it was a runaway from one of the local frog habitats created by the runoff water collection ditches. Collin got to touch it briefly but then it hopped off. We spent a good ½ hour frog hunting in trees, under the patio and around the truck. Did I mention he pronounces it “Frog-ah”? So adorable.

Pejorative. Unfortunately for us Collin can now say “Fuck”. He has amazing enunciation with this word. It is hard to pretend that he is saying fog, frog, truck or anything of that sort. Luckily he doesn’t use it in context—yet.