Zeb had to work on Saturday a few weeks back. Because he is the most awesome husband alive, (or possibly because he feared for his safety and the safety of his children) he stayed home until around 8:30 so I could sleep late. (Yes, people without children– 8:30 is late.)
I got up, got my coffee, checked my email, updated my Facebook status…all of the important things you do first thing in the morning. My four-year-old, Aubrey, walked over and asked, “Momma, will you make me pancakes?”
“Yes baby. Give me just a second to finish up here.”
“But Momma, there’s only one effin’ egg….”
I still wasn’t really awake. (In case you don’t know me, I prefer not to speak OR be spoken to until about 11:30am, but I have 3 kids under 4, nobody really cares what I think.) I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly….
“WHAT did you say?”
“THERE is only ONE EFFIN EGG!” She was definitely screaming at me.
This could not be. Where would she have heard such language?
“Aubrey, what did you say?”
She began shaking both of her fists in the air, and screamed at the top of her lungs, “DADDY WAS GOING TO MAKE PANCAKES THIS MORNING, BUT THERE WAS ONLY ONE EFFIN EGG!”
I called my husband, Zeb, at work and said, “So I heard you were going to make pancakes but there was only one effin egg.”
“Well.. there was only one effin egg.”
*Disclaimer- She did say “effin” and not the actual “f-bomb.” It’s my silver lining.
About two days later Aubrey walked into the kitchen while I was washing dishes and looked me square in the eye and said, “Skid mark.”
It was my turn to scream… “ZEB!”