Now bring us the friggy pudding…

What’s the old line about little pitchers…?

Somewhere (we have our theories where), Finn picked up the, ah, charming adjective “friggin’.” It’s hard to know quite how to react to his using what’s not a real curse word but not very polite, either. An example scene:

The boys & I walked to nearby Hummingbird Park for some post-dinner R&R the other evening, and Finn insisted on towing a small wagon laden with all kinds of toys. (Amazingly, and to his credit, he was careful & didn’t lose any.) At the park Henry grew naturally curious & made a move for the wagon.

“Hey!!” shouted Finn. “Dad-O, he’s going to grab my friggin’ wagon!”

Oh boy, I thought, not knowing whether to laugh or apply the brakes. Not wanting to make a stink (and maybe raise the word’s scandalous appeal), I ignored the language & calmly assured him that Henry wouldn’t take the wagon.

“Yeah,” said Finn,” but then he’s gonna grab my friggin’ police car, my friggin’ pirate ship, my friggin’ ice cream truck…”

Man oh man–what to friggin’ do? 😉

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