Carter told his entire 2nd grade class today that I cussed.
Awesome.
His precious teacher was talking to the kids about how sometimes when people get upset, they use curse words. She explained to them that there are better words to choose and that using foul language is not a good idea.
Carter commences to tell the story of my experience with Direct Tv last week. He explained that I had to talk to them on the phone over and over and it made me angry. He told the class and his teacher that I kept having to tell the same story to them again and again and I was on the phone with them for like 3 hours.
Up until this point, his story is completely accurate.
But then, my dear, dear child, told his class that I cussed on the phone.
Beautiful.
So now, his perfectly angelic teacher and his 20 classmates (who know me as a Kindergarten teacher), all think I am a potty mouth.
What actually happened, was that I said I was almost mad enough to cuss. I had carried out the last portion of the phone call with Direct Tv behind closed doors in my bedroom, so my dear child assumed that if I was mad enough to cuss, then I must have actually cursed.
So, now his sweet and innocent little friends, will look at me as the...
Potty Mouthin' Mom.
Thanks, Carter.
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