So I’m in the kitchen baking banana bran muffins. (I’m working on the whole ‘domestic goddess’ thing. To be fair, it needs a lot of work.)
Moodle is “helping” me bake, but first “just needs to finish” some faffing on her tablet.
We make idle conversation, until:
Moodle (to tablet): “Take that, you douchebag!”
Me (calmly*): “Excuse me?”
Moodle: [looks up from tablet] …
Me: “What did you just say?”
Moodle (light dawns, and a guilty little smile sneaks across her face): “Oh, well, there’s this dude, and he’s a real pain…”
Me: “Yes, but that word?”
Me: “Yes. That’s not really am appropriate word for an eleven-year-old.”
Moodle (totally unconcerned): “Oh, right.” [Totally loses interest, goes back to tablet.]
Yeah, so the “domestic goddess” thing needs more work perhaps.
* I know exactly where she’s heard it. It was me. Of course. Who else would it be?
I distinctly remember thinking I should stop shouting that at the cat when the kids were home…