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!”
Little ears.
Always turned on when you least want them to be.
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