Tattoos

Last Wednesday we were in Franklin moving the last of my things out of my old house. After we completed that task we went to 2 dinners. One with my parents and one with friends. On the way to Chicago's Pizza we passed a tattoo joint.

Me: Ella, you wanna get a tattoo?
Ella: YEAH!
Prince C: No.
Me: Haha!
Ella: but I want a tattoo Dada.
Price C: what would you get?
Me: ok, if you were getting a tattoo today, where would you get it?
A unicorn. At that place we just passed.
Oh! No, no, on your body, silly.
On my leg. Like daddy. On his ...eking... Hairy leg.
What?!? What are you saying!?!
On my leg. Like daddy's freaking hairy leg.
Price C: oh no! Where did you learn that?
I don't know.
Ok well no more saying it. No more.
Why not? Why can't I say freaking?
Because it's not lady like.
But, it's not a bad word.
Just don't.

It's not been said again - but seriously. Where does a 5 year old hear, "freaking hairy leg"?

Geez.

Kiss kiss,
Frootie!