...the fact that my children choose to repeat the minor infractions on my bad language, instead of the major.
Let me set the scene. We're cleaning the boys room today, almost done. I'm trying to get the boys to understand the meaning of "putting our cloths away". Which does not include, setting them on the dresser and leaving it for months, jamming them into the bottom of the closet, shoving them under the bed, or leaving them in various corners of the house taking much more time to find these hiding places verses actually taking seconds to put them away in the right place. Chandler gets sick of my ranting, and starts singing. "We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!"
Morgan chimes in: "we wiss you a mewwy Kismas, we wiss...."
Gabe corrects them all on their grammar usage.
Chandler: Now bring us some yummy pudding, now bring us some yummy pudding, now..."
Gabe: No Chandler, its Figgy Pudding!
Chandler: "Now bring us some Figgy Pudding, now bring us some figgy pudding..."
Gabe: No, Chandler, its "bring us A figgy pudding"
Chandler: " Now bring us A figgy pudding..."
They all start to sing together, but the only thing I hear is Morgan's rendition.
Morgan: "now bring us some freakin' pudding, now bring us some freakin' pudding..."
Luckily, I was turned around with my back to them, so they didn't see me crack a smile. But I'm afraid my "Shelby shake" gave me away to the older ones.
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