An Email Exchange, or She's No Angel Either
Mom: I hope you guys have a good mechanic down there
Me: Well we have that mechanic friend who did our car who is one of Noah’s squad mates’ cousin.
Mom: Well that should work out okay. Although sometimes policemen - wellll you know.
Me: I know. They cuss too.
Mom: I think that's why you're getting a potty mouth. Well you and your husband better watch it with our darlin wee impressionable genius hovering around.
Me: I know. Like the time I said sh*t at the age of two that time dad slammed on the brakes because my babysitter's kids said cusses.
Mom: Exactly! That wee angel comes out with something and all I can say is I don't think you're too old for mouth full of soap even if dad has to hold you down.
Me: Oh please we don’t walk around swearing. Although I did call Noah a butt munch in front of him, but I told him afterward he shouldn’t say that.
Mom: Oh well then, that makes it okay, cuz he doesn't have a memory.
Me: You know, if he starts being sarcastic, I’ll know who to blame.
Mom: I would rather have him sarcastic like his beautiful nana than a potty mouth like his mum.
Me: We’ll you’re not the mum, so you don’t get to decide.
Mom: So the decision is going to be potty mouth or sarcasm. It will be fun to see how that turns out butt munch.
Me: I hope you know I’m saving these emails as evidence that you’re a potty mouth too.
Mom: Good. BUTT MUNCH!!!!
Aaaaand scene!