Yeah, you read that right.

Daddy curses too much, but he hasn’t dropped that bomb around you. And certainly not with the frequency that you say it.

Playing with this,

you make it hope along and say –


Or this –


“Frog,” we say.


“Frog. ”


Sometimes, for no apparent reason, you see something that must look like a frog, because you point and say, “Fock.”

Walking through the store with your cousins, you saw the big green frog before daddy did.


And then there’s meal time. “Let Daddy get you a fork.”




When it’s quiet at night and you’re asleep, in my mind’s ear, I can hear you —

“Fock. ”

Every now and then it comes out, “Frock.”

But usually it’s

Mommy suggested I should warn them at day care. If they serve lunch with a fork instead of a spoon, I suspect they’ll learn it soon enough.

At church this morning, Daddy saw that there weren’t any toys in your diaper bag. So daddy gave you a plastic fork.

As you smiled and held the fork up high, Daddy panicked as you loudly called out, “Eat!”

I took the fork back before you could follow up that idea. I gave you cookies, instead. No fork, forrrkk, fork, needed.


1 thought on ““Fock.”

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