Baby you're a firework.

After arriving home from the beach we had our Colorado friends' families over to visit while they are here on the East coast with their 800 sons. OK, they only have three, but that is quite enough.

To keep the 5-year old boys in line, I promised that we could light fireworks later that evening IF THEY WERE WELL BEHAVED.

(Like boys are ever "well" behaved.)

They were not horrible, so we ended up shooting some of the bottle rockets off in the backyard, and then let the boys do sparklers.

As Jack held his sparkler infront of a group of 8 visiting, OLDER adults, he giggled in delight. Then, as the sparkler fizzled closer to his hand he exlaimed, "hey...this is FUCKING BURNING!"

Crickets chirped.

"What did you say?" I asked him, desperately trying not to laugh.

"I said," he slowly repeated with a very adult-like raised eyebrow, "that this is fucking burning!"

(I secretly was waiting for the "...man!")

The adults gasped.

I chomped my face.

I explained that that wasn't a great word to use, and it made some people upset, so it's better just to not say it at all.

"Anyway...where did you hear that?" I asked.

"Daddy says it all of the fucking time!"

No I'm just kidding. I couldn't resist.

What he really said: "Daddy says it all of the time!"