Choice Language

Yesterday was like any Sunday morning in our house. It got off to a lazy start. I got up and made breakfast for myself and our 2-year old (almost) daughter whilst my wife and eldest daughter had a long lie in.

Breakfast went without a hitch – which was a pleasant surprise because there is usually toast, or banana, or juice, or some other substance splattered on the floor. And afterwards, I took the little one through to the living room so she could play and watch tv whilst I finished my coffee and read a book.

Ah, I thought, this is nice. Right at the moment that my daughter said something that sounded all too close to “Fucking hell!”.

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