It’s About F—ing Time!

In June of 2017 I wrote a post about the time that Livia asked me what the f-word meant. I wondered what my husband had done to expose her to that word. He told me there was a story behind it and that he’d write it down for me. I waited and waited but eventually gave up hope. Seven months later (January 31, 2018), he finally coughed it up. It’s a good thing for him that it’s still funny! But it belongs in the 2017 album, so I’m backdating this post to July 31, 2017.

Marshall, Livia, and Daddy were quietly sitting on the couch watching YouTube videos while Marshall waited for his new game to load on his tablet. Livia casually asked her brother a question.

Livia: Marshall, do you know the word “f—?”

Marshall: Yeah, I’ve heard of “f—.”

Daddy: Marshall, how do you know the word?

Marshall: My friends.

Daddy (in his head): Thank God it wasn’t my YouTube videos!

Livia: My friends told me “f—” is a swear word and that I shouldn’t say it. But I like to say it. F—, f—, f—, f—, f—, f—!

Daddy: Stop saying that, Livia.

Livia: Why?

Daddy: Because it’s a bad word, and you shouldn’t use it.

Livia: But what does it mean?

Daddy: It’s a swear word.

Livia: I know, but what does it mean?

Daddy: Eh…it means “sex.”

Livia: What’s sex?

Daddy: Remember? It’s how babies are made.

Livia: Oh.

There was an awkward silence.

Daddy: Why don’t you go ask your mother?

Livia ran upstairs to talk to Mommy. Daddy was relieved.

Mommy (heard from downstairs): That’s a bad word. You shouldn’t use it!

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