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The family Gaskell was driving home from the park yesterday, when suddenly a truck careened into our lane, and came thisclose to hitting our minivan. George, who has the reflexes of a superhero, swerved and avoided disaster.

“Jesus!” I exclaimed.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam added from the backseat, before calmly taking a sip from his juice box.

George and I exchanged a look.

“Uh oh,” I said.

“That’s new,” George said.

“Sam, honey, you really shouldn’t say that,” I said. And then, quickly added, “especially not at school.”

But Sam has no interest in giving up his new phrase. So far he’s let three more Jesus Christs fly. Once after tripping. A second while struggling to put on his shoes. And a third just for the fun of it.

I’m expecting a note will be coming home from school on Tuesday.

After the last Jesus Christ, George gave me a beady look.

“What?” I said hotly. “You think this is my fault?”

“You’re the one who said it in front of him.”

“After we almost got hit by a truck,” I said. “It’s not like I was swearing because the store was out of cartons of Kools or because my lotto numbers didn’t come up. It was an excited utterance!”

“And you say I argue like a lawyer,” George said.

Posted 18 February 2007 at 11:46 AM