Say What?!

For the Fourth of July weekend a bunch of us went camping.  My sister and brother-in-law own some property about two hours away and it’s freakin’ awesome.  First, you don’t have to worry about reserving a spot on holiday weekends and second, it’s camping.

Most of the time something dysfunctional happens though.  Last year someone in my family got bumped (literally bumped) with a four wheeler and “lost all feeling in his leg.”  Yes, I’m keeping the name anonymous and yes, this person was a serious hypochondriac.  The year before I told my brother-in-law to stop bossing my sister around (what, I’m protective) and I was not his favorite person for the rest of the trip.  I hope he remembers that I’m a lot better about keeping my mouth shut now and that I love him dearly. 🙂

This year was a lot less dysfunctional but not any less interesting.  Heath, my brother-in-law, invited a co-worker and his family to join us.  His family included his wife and two sons, one of which was maybe a little bit “different.”  He was a perfectly nice kid but just a tad annoying and possibly crazy.  He’s 10, so it’s to be expected.  What’s not to be expected is what happened one night when we were all hanging around the campfire.  We were partaking in usual campfire activities; roasting marshmallows, making smores and telling stories.  Armando, the slightly annoying and possibly crazy 10 year old, was riding my nephew’s motorcycle back and forth next to the fire. On one particular loop back, he lost control of the motorcycle and it crashed into someone’s trailer. It scared him, naturally.  He started apologizing profusely.  I’m talking “I’m sorry” like 15 times.  And then, mixed somewhere within those apologies, he let out an extra special one…. He said, and I quote, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

I was like hmmm there’s no way I just heard this kid drop an F bomb. Rob turned to me and was like, “Did he just say ‘I’m so fucking sorry?'”  Turns out that’s exactly what he said.  And he said it so casually.  He dropped it like it was nothing.  His parents weren’t around, and none of us tried to discipline the foul language.  How could we?  We were in shock.  I’m telling you right now that if you’re 10 years old that is totally how you should drop an F bomb, or any swear bomb for that matter.  It’s so sly that by the time anyone figures out that’s what you’ve actually said, the moment has passed.  So, on that note, Happy Fucking Fourth of July!

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