Stupid Socks.

Mark's standard uniform is a white t-shirt and basket ball shorts if it is warm, and workout pants if its cold, and maybe jeans on a good day. Needless to say, Sunday has been know to be a battle because I will not permit basket ball shorts, workout pants, or jeans at church. Furthermore I make his wear dark socks on Sunday, which completely violates every rule he has. The first thing he does when returning from church is remove his church shoes, and promptly remove his socks.

On Sunday he was laying on the floor in the mud room grabbing at the top of his sock, struggling to get it off, not understanding that removing socks from the ankle as opposed to the toes is generally more efficient. I was not about to tell him, because he would not listen to me anyway. In the middle of his struggle he says "My damn sock is stupid and I hate it!"

My eyes grew big wondering if I had actually heard what I heard, and he promptly repeated it again, leaving no doubt in my mind. I carefully weighed my options...I could get after him for using a naughty word, but I am not sure he understood he was using a naughty word, and by telling him it is a naughty word, it would probably only encourage his behavior, or if he did realize it was a naughty word it again would encourage him because, well, that is how he is. My other option was to ignore it. I chose to ignore it. Again the word was repeated by Mark is several different sentences for the next two minutes, without reaction, finally he quit using it.

I wrote down what he said, because lets face it, it was prime blogging material. Everyone was at my house for Lauren's birthday, and several of my guests saw my note, and questioned it. With all adults in Mark's life present, I said, "He picked this up somewhere." I believe the guilty party knows who HE is.