CURSIVE

The kids were talking about “bad” words.

“I know the 'S' word,” offered Lana.

Before she had finished her sentence, Sebastian had revved up his own.

“Oh, I know, I know! It's 'stupid'!”

“Yes,” continued Lana, “And we're not allowed to use it even though daddy sometimes does.” She said this in the melodic, lawyerly tone with which a ten-year old girl will say such things. It was fairly charming.

Sebastian had more to add to the conversation.

“I know the 'F' word.” I was prepared to be charmed again. “It's 'fuck'!”

I was... “Wait, what?”

“Fuck!”

I missed a beat, and Lana noticed I was off rhythm. “What does that even mean?” she said.

I asked Sebastian where he had learned the word. I asked more as a diversion than anything else.

Well, apparently one of his seat mates in kindergarten last year had access to the outer reaches of the “bad” word list, and had shared it with him.

I was actually pretty impressed that he'd sat on it for all this time...