Daddy, Don’t Say What the &%$#!

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and maple syrup mingled in the air this with tension and frustration. I pulled Jasper in tighter, squeezing his arm in assurance as I inhaled deeply.

Patrick moved the TV’s for me over the weekend, so that our smart TV could be in our living room in place of the older device. Call it nesting or nagging (and you’d be right), but Patrick was doing all that he could to make me happy.

Sweating with the effort, he hoisted the giant screen above his head for the third time, trying with all of his might to secure the expensive, massive weight of the television to the mount on the wall.

“God DA….” Patrick choked.

“Nice job not saying a bad word, Daddy,” Jasper praised. “We don’t say bad words.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Clearly, Jasper, absorbing all of our words and actions like a sponge, had taken note of our positive behavior intervention strategies.

Patrick glared at Jasper, and then at me, continuing his efforts and cutting off any further banned phrases.

I hugged Jasper, and praised him for his efforts. I’m so glad he isn’t parroting F-Bombs.


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