When you live with two boys ages 13 and 8, the air is filled with crude and questionable vocabulary. I'm very careful what and how I say things, as they are always on the alert for me to slip up. Yesterday, Landon busted me.
Already on a tear for something else Gary was supposed to do and hadn't, I walked into his room and noticed an almost empty gallon of sweet tea partially under his bed. I neither buy sweet tea, nor allow food outside the kitchen. He'd had multiple friends over this weekend, so it must've traveled to our house with one of them. I demanded, "Why is there a gallon of tea in your room? Where did this come from?" I was met with three blank stares. Peering at Landon I asked, "Is it yours?" He shook his head no. I glared at Gary, "Is it yours?" He silently shook his head no. With the same angry tone I asked Austin, "Is that yours?" He continued to shake his head in unison with the other two. No one uttered a sound. I knew they were guilty, but I wasn't asking the right question. I grabbed the jug, held it up, and noticed that it was a little off color. Then I gasped, and before I could catch myself I screamed, "Is this piss????"
Their faces changed from fear to total shock followed by uncontrolled laughter. It took Landon all of 2 seconds to announce, "Mom said a bad word. I KNEW YOU SAID BAD WORDS!!! I KNEW IT I KNEW IT!!!!!!!!!!! CAN WE SAY PISS TOO????"
Once the tension broke and laughter subsided, Austin admitted that he'd brought it over and forgotten to take it home the night before.