Awhile back, The Mayor's favorite thing to say was, "Oh my GOD!"
We convinced him that the phrase was "Oh my GOSH!" and he has made the shift.
He still says it a lot, but thankfully he uses gosh instead of God saving his father and I from embarrassing encounters here in the Bible belt.
Last night, I was undressing Rooster Girl for her bath and whipped her diaper off (rather too cavalierly) only to realize that she had, um, left an undetected deposit.
Poo poo galore!
[...something about every day being the same...]
I think I might have gasped in surprise and said, "Oh my GOD!" which is a really tame thing to say given my options.
Piqued, The Mayor asked, "What did you said mommy?"
"I said, oh my GOSH! Rooster has a poopy diaper."
[wipe sweat from brow. you have escaped toddler detection of taking THE LORD's name in vain and are super kick-ass mommy.]
After handing Rooster off to K for her bath I called back to The Mayor,
"In just a second it's going to be your turn to take your clothes off and get ready for the bath."
I could HEAR his eyes rolling as he called back,
Saints preserve us.