Petra and I were out driving the other day, past the park in mid-afternoon traffic. Driving here's not for the faint of heart and I was muttering a running commentary about the suicidal/homicidal scooter riders whizzing around me. Part of it went, "Fuck man, what are you doing?" as a scooter charged down the centre line straight at a couple of scooters coming in the other direction, followed by "Jesus!" as one of the oncoming riders swerved so sharply to avoid the first guy that he nearly laid his bike on the road.
Just as well that Petra's still at the mum mum mum, dad dad dad stage and not at the mimicking everything mum says stage.
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That's so funny – not that the people are all mad but I could just imagine you doing it (made me laugh). You're so lucky P is still little, Miss O would be sitting in the back saying "you said fuck mum, not allowed to say fuck, why did you say fuck?" She aims to get the bad word in as many times as possible while she can. Luckily her mother has reigned in the language and I only get in trouble for poo & bugger at this stage 🙂