Wherein I swear at my children

It was one of those chaotic days we have around here so often. Nothing was getting done, for no particular reason. The house was badly cluttered. Dinner was haphazard and I was late getting it started. So the kids and I decided to play a game. I didn't want to play the game but in the midst of a crazy day, sometimes that's the best thing to do.

It was a card game about inventions, and I was playing a card with a question about early bicycles. I don't remember which child had the question, but he or she got it wrong. I read the correct answer off the card and J piped up, "That's wrong! The first bicycle was a vockilipsie!"

"A vockilipsie?" I thought to myself. "What the hell is a vockilipsie?" Then I realized I'd said it out loud.

Oh, my kids were delighted! They could not stop laughing. Every now and then one would get enough breath to say "What the bleep is a vockilipsie?" and that would send them both off cracking up again. I apologized, and said that was not an appropriate way to use the word hell. They just kept laughing. And argued over who would get to tell Dad. (I said I would.) Then we had to figure out what a vockilipsie actually is. It is a velocipede. (More about J and phonics another time.)

When Dad got home I told him. He laughed too, of course. We both knew it could have been worse. Later, J sidled up to me and whispered, "did you tell Dad about the incident?" I assured him that I had and all was well. I think he was disappointed that I didn't get computer time taken away from me as punishment. (He would have.) But he recovered quickly and went off cackling and chanting "what the bleep is a vockilipsie?"

You thought this was going to be more exciting, didn't you?