Having little ears around can be difficult sometimes. Recently, my baby girl spit up (more like a mini barf) on the floor, herself, and me after gulping down a big bottle of breast milk. My initial verbal reaction was, “Ahh, damnit!”

I quickly ignored my cursing so as not to draw more attention to my foul mouth. It was too late.

My three-year-old boy asked, “Emmitt? Did Emmitt do that?”

“Yes. Yes he did," I replied. “Bad kitty.”

We have a 14 ½ year-old cat named Emmitt (named after one of the greatest running backs ever) that he thought I was talking about. Poor cat. I’ve never seen a cat throw up breast milk like that before! He’s a good sport for taking the blame. In the end, I don’t think the kitty diversion worked very well.

Our boy was having trouble putting on his pajama shirt last week and started yelling, “Daymitt! Daymitt!”

That’s just great. At least he’s not saying it right.

Sometimes it’s hard to break old habits. Working in a bar for ten years, foul language became part of normal conversation with friends and co-workers. Now that there are kids around everyday of my life, I’ve done pretty well at curbing the cursing. I’ve thought about spelling it out when I need to let one fly, but that is difficult and loses meaning by the time I’m done spelling. For example, the other day when I raked my heel across the bottom of our rot iron gate as I opened it…

“S-o-n-o-f-a-b-i-t-c-h! That really hurt! S-h-i-t!”

By the time I am able to spell all of that, the pain in my heel would be gone. Not the blood, though. D-a-m-n! I needed a Band-Aid. I guess spelling out the cuss words could be a good way to pass the time while the pain subsides. The more pain you are in the more words you can spell. A little form of pain therapy and the kids have no idea what you are saying. They just think you are crazy for speaking that way.

We’ve been spelling out other words, too, like c-h-o-c-o-l-a-t-e m-i-l-k. Although, I think the boy is onto us. Every time we "spell" about giving him something, he looks around to see what we are spelling about. Then out comes the Nestlé’s Quik and he starts jumping around the kitchen screaming, “CHOCOLATE MILK! CHOCOLATE MILK! CHOCOLATE MILK!”

Would he be that excited if we started spelling out b-r-o-c-c-o-l-i? My guess is he would bounce around the kitchen yelling, “CHOCOLATE MILK! CHOCOLATE MILK! CHOCOLATE MILK!”