I swear we don't talk that way!

Today I dropped Wild Man off at his preschool, which he loves by the way!

It is amazing how free you feel when you have one less child.

So Romeo and I ran some errands.

Since Wild Man's school only goes from 8:30 -11:30. I don't go back home, it just seems easier to stay out running errands or like today going as many places as I can to make a scene.

I decided to go to Goodwill. Because the Goodwill here is AWESOME!

Romeo agrees with me.

While I was comtemplated buying a accent chair for our bedroom for $13, Romeo found a big fire truck to play with.

This thing was HUGE. If Romeo laid down on the floor it would have been as long as him.

Romeo loved this truck and he drove it around the whole store while I shopped.

When it was time to go I tried to find creative ways for us to leave the big truck behind without a fight.

Unfortunately my creative juices have been used up with the projects on the house, so I failed at avoiding a meltdown.

Now let me tell you that Romeo has many talents. He is great at giving people hugs and kisses, he can unload the dryer faster then anyone, and he can know exactly how to get under he big brother's skin. But bless his little heart, speaking is not one of his specialties.

I am his mother and I do realize that I maybe the only person on this planet that can understand what he is saying sometimes. Because he may think he is saying the word hot dog but unfortunately it sounds more like he is asking for dodo bird then a hot dog.

So with this speaking impairment he can not pronounce the tr in truck he makes an f sounds instead of the tr sound.

So yes when my sweet precious son is asking for a truck, he is actually saying f*@k.

Lovely.

Also another very unfortunate thing about this is that although most every other word he says in not very articulate the word is says for truck is VERY articulate.

There is no doubt what he is saying.

So back to when we were in Goodwill today.

I tried my ever loving best to get him to park the truck under a table, in a "tunnel" of clothes, even in a big box of teddy bears.

Nothing worked.

So I did what I thought was the next logical thing.

Just put the truck up, pick up my son, and walk out the store.

So what does my little Romeo do.

Why he starts to scream f*@k over, and over, and over at the top of his lungs!

I am pretty sure that if everyone in the store didn't know that we were in the store before, they knew us as we were leaving.