The Littlest Brewster has gotten to that lovely stage where she likes to repeat the words and phrases that come out of your mouth. This isn’t usually a problem as the DreadBrewer and I are fairly careful not to cuss around her. (Although a few weeks ago, DB yelled out “That guy got flamin’ nuked!” while watching football and LB has been yelling “Flamin’ Nuked!” with glee ever since. But that’s kind of cute, so we don’t mind…)

Well Sunday, again while watching football, DB yells out “Bollocks!!!!”

LB promptly starts chanting “Bollocks! Bollocks! Bollocks!” as I stare at him, simultaneously aghast and giggling uncontrollably.

Me: “Honey! We can’t let her walk around saying bollocks!”

DB: “It’s a British term. Nobody knows what bollocks means!”

Me: “Yes they do! We cannot let her go to daycare tomorrow chanting bollocks.”

During this exchange, LB sees that we are both laughing hysterically at the ridiculousness of her hollering “Bollocks!” and ramps it up. So DB tries to intervene and says, “No – BULLET.” (Because that’s way better than bollocks…)

She looks at her dad and says with the utmost disdain and condescension “NO. BOLLOCKS!”

Sigh. At least she’s also at the age where her memory is all of 5 minutes long and we’ve only heard bollocks out of her once since… And we managed not to laugh this time, so maybe that’ll help.

One can hope, right?

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