As proof that my children's first words will probably consist of 4 letters, allow me to submit "Exhibit A" in the form of a text conversation I had with my mother the other night after she left my house:
Mom: Did I leave my damn eggplant there?
Me: Dunno. What was it packaged in?
Mom: Yell
Mom: Ow sjoprite bag. I think i peft it outside on the table
Mom: Sorry i get sonsick of goingmback and correcting everhthing on thismpiecemofshit pu
Mom: E
Mom: Phone
Me: That might have been the best god dam text series I ever received
Mom: Fucking phone
Yeah, we might need to work on that before the kids start talking.
The other night Mom & I were sitting outside after dinner. It was lovely, fireflies were flitting and a cool summer breeze was blowing. Suddenly, she loudly let out a string of foul language that startled the birds on the bird feeder. She had been trying to remember the words to "Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta," and had finally recovered them. So she shouted them to the world.
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