My Sweet F***ing Noodle

It was a most unexpected sound.

I was driving down the Merritt Parkway in Connecticut with Noodle and one of her "inner-sanctum BFFs, Carr. (Bear in mind that the young lass has many BFFs. At last count, she has 325 BFFs in Facebook, so consider yourself pretty special if she thinks you're i-s worthy.) We were on our way back to Long Island after paying visits to the University of New Haven, Quinnepiac University, and Sacred Heart University, when a typical teenage girl conversation broke out on the subject of boys. Nothing new there. The topic of the conversation was a particular boy at her school who gave the business the other day to Raych, another one of Noodle's i-s BFFs.



Then it happened. From the mouth of my sweet, darling, lovable, can-do-no-wrong, Catholic-schoolgirl daughter came these words:



"He's such a fucking asshole."





Now I don't really mind the cursing, especially while defending the honor of an i-s BFF. I also have a rather well-developed vocabulary when speaking in Foul, so this development is no surprise. Still, the words seemed to shred the last vestiges of the irrational childhood fear I've built up in her for my wrath. Clearly, my little girl is growing up.

Me: C'mon Noodle. Do you have to drop the f-bomb in front of me? Really. Can I have just a smidgen of respect that way?

Noodle: I'm sorry Daddy. It's just sometimes I can't help myself. That boy really was an....

Me: Stop! Don't say it. I've already heard it once.

Noodle: Well, me and Raych are over it.

Me: Really? How did you resolve it.

Noodle: We told him that we hope one day he has two penises shoved up his ass at the same time.

Ewww! Even I was hurting from that one. It serves me right for raising her to be bi-lingual.

It was then that I cranked up the XM to listen to this cool cat to lose the visual of... of... of....

Nevermind! Take it away Jason Mraz.

Make It Mine