One time, when my son was about 4 and my daughter was about 2, we were heading home from a long day in town, where we had been doing some sort of family thing. The Hubs and I were tuckered out, and I for one, was ready for a glass bottle of wine to make me feel lots better….
The kids were starting to bicker in the back seat. Ah. How absolutely mind-blowingly motherfuckingly EXCRUCIATING to listen to your 2 small children fight about such matters as “She looked at me” or “He said poop”….
Hubs gripped the steering wheel tight and took it upon himself to threaten the children with a good ol’ fashioned spanking if they kept it up… (note for parents-to-be or Judgy McJudgersons: we have never spanked the children, but it’s ALWAYS awesome, and totally acceptable, to use as a threat especially in dire situations such as these.)
Silence grew from the back seat as the children pondered their Daddy’s giant hand smacking their teeny (and cute, IMHO) bottoms….
My son, after a minute of said pondering, crossed his arms indignantly, raised his chin defiantly and said in a loud, disgusted and clear voice…. “ASSHOLE….”
Lordy, let me tell you, The Hubs had a really hard time driving while trying not let on that we were both inundated with a mad case of the Giggles…. Snorts and muffled guffaws followed….
His execution of the word, with his tone and deflection, and topped off with the arms crossed, was absolutely perfect....