Scene: at a stoplight in East Texas.
Time: mid-day.
The Babe, looking out the window: "That woman is smokin'! "
Me, looking at him the now-adjusted rear view mirror: "What did you just say?" *Undertone of "You didn't just say what I THINK you said, did you?"
The Babe: "I meant she is smokin'. Not like beautiful. Like on a cigarette."
Me: "Oh. OK."
Then I launched into a diatribe about how I don't want to hear The Babe calling any woman "smokin', as in beautiful, hot or any of a handful of other adjectives, UNLESS he is married to her and it is in private. Appropriate compliments are OK. Distasteful, base commentary is NOT.
Ugh. Some days parenting is just a smokin' pile of whooey.
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