James had something he wanted to tell me tonight. "I know what the f-word is," he said.
For a moment I thought maybe he knew another f-word. He's only six years old and still in senior kindergarten, so how could he know the f-word? I asked him what the f-word was.
That's when, in his sweet, innocent voice, he dropped the f-bomb. A kid in his class unveiled the word to a group of them today, and James knew he possessed a word with power.
I nodded my head, confirmed that he had indeed stumbled upon the f-word, and left him with one final order. "Don't use that word."
I know, it's weak, but it was the best I had. I didn't see this coming.
