So. It seems my daughter has picked up my propensity for colorful language.
Tonight, just before dinner, the Girl asked, “Can I eat my dinner in your room so I can watch TV?”
“No, honey,” I answered. “You need to eat at the kitchen table.”
Then, quietly and to herself, she said it.
The F word.
And I heard it. Though her back was to me and she said it under her breath, it rang out loud and clear, plain as day. When you hear it, you know it.