Little pitchers

Last night, out of the blue, Graham taught me how powerful just a few carefully-chosen words can be.

"Mommy, you are my very best friend."

And I felt my eyes well and my heart swell and I gently kissed his forehead.

"What a nice thing to say sweetie, thank you."

And Graham smiled sweetly in return.

"You're welcome mommy. You are my very best friend because you are really pretty and also, you almost never say damnit."

Oh yes he did.

Last night Graham taught me that Mommy needs to choose her words just a little more carefully.

Eddie Haskell in the house

"Damnit!" Graham blurted out last night when he spilled his orange juice.

I'd never heard him say that before and I was startled. It's pretty minor as far as swear words go, but not exactly what you expect to hear come out of your two-year-old's mouth.

"That's not really the nicest thing to say," I cautioned him, mopping up the mess. "It's better to just say something like shoot or darn."

"Sorry Mama, " Graham said. "I say shoot Mama."

"That's better sweetie," I said just a little smugly, feeling never more like June Cleaver. "Would you like some more juice?"

"No thank you Mama."

Could he BE any more polite? I smiled serenely and tousled his hair.

"Mama?"

"Yes Graham?"

"How 'bout a glass of wine?"

Damnit.