That Time Olviia Said F*@&

Olivia is fourteen years old. In so many ways, she’s very much a typical fourteen year old. She loves YouTube, she listens to Melanie Martinez, watches ASMR (google it) videos and probably other less appropriate things that I am not aware of. (Ahem, yes, I should be more aware of what she’s watching/reading/learning online. Noted.)

When Alyssa was fourteen, she was into Pentatonix, a very wholesome a capella group that is truly just lovely.

Olivia’s interests are not quite so wholesome.

Anyway.

One day I was in the basement looking for tomatoes.

Olivia came down to look for me.

I wasn’t in my usual place, which is in front of the washer and dryer.

Instead, I was between two shelving units that hold all our preserved food.

I heard O come down the stairs. I watched her walk right by me. She didn’t see me there and kept going toward the basement laundry room. She took maybe three steps into the laundry room and stopped, noting that I was not in the room. At that point, she muttered, “Fuck.”

I was maybe ten feet from her in my space between the shelves. I called out to her, “What did you just say?”

She spun around, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.

She walked quickly to where I was standing and hugged me.

I laughed.

I mean, what’s a single muttered “fuck” between mother and daughter?

I did suggest that maybe that’s not the best word for her to walking around muttering but you know what? I get it.

Sometimes muttering the worst word you can think of is the best form of stress-relief.

So…yeah. That happened.