Yesterday Austin told me he knew a bad word.
"Really?" I asked, because just the other week he was giggling in the back seat with a friend about a bad word they had heard: "moron."
"It starts with an F," he said.
Hmmm... "fart" was a possibility. "What's the word?"
He looked over at Mari and decided to spell it out: "F. U. K."
I did not laugh out loud but I told him not to say that word in front of Nana because it's very rude.
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