Loosely related to yesterday's post, I was in the car this afternoon, between the bus stop and piano lessons, humming along to my new local Irish playlist.
Suddenly a footstep on the stair
Who could it be but Reilly after slaughter
With two pistols in his hand
Looking for the man who shagged his daughter
My 10-year old pipes up from the back seat. "Did he say 'shot his daughter'"?
"Ah, no. He said something different."
"What did he say?"
Huh. Well, truth will out, I suppose.
"Uh, 'shag'. The word he said is, 'shag.'"
"What's that mean?"
"It has to do with kissing. Would you like more information?"
"No!"
A parent's best defense: the 'K' word.