It was bound to happen sometime.

Yesterday at dinner, Brandon told us that he swatted a wasp in our house with a magazine and he hit it so hard that it split in two.

Luke said, without skipping a beat, "Well at least ya killed the damn thing."

We were silent for a moment and then we cracked up.

I guess I haven't hidden my potty mouth as well as I thought.

He asked, "Did I just say a bad word?" He was repentant.
(I'll admit that I was proud at how well he used it.)

Unfortunately, his little brother sat across from me and repeated to himself, "Damn, damn, damn, damn." 

I wonder when, and especially where, he will use that choice word.