It hadn’t been a good day.
For the normally organized and industrious mother of the family, a frustrating and unproductive day.
Impatience was bubbling perilously close to the surface.
She dropped a plate.
Which then shattered into a quadrillion pieces.
Spreading itself over the entire kitchen floor.
It was at that moment that the frustration finally broke through.
“Oh, damn it all anyway!”
Her husband looked up from the paper he was reading at the dining room table and blinked in surprise.
Maybe I should explain that this really wasn’t her usual form of expression.
Back to my story . . .
He glanced meaningfully at the little three-year-old girl playing happily on the floor at his feet, seemingly oblivious to the conversation. “Ummm . . .” he said, “. . . darn it?! Dang it?!”
The little girl looked up. “No, Daddy,” she said. “Damn it!”
Always turned on when you least want them to be.