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"Felix, my love, please tell me why I found our 3-year-old playing alone in her room calling her stuffed duck a 'fucking cunt?'" You ask, walking into the kitchen where Felix was making lunch for the three of you. You set the laundry basket on the floor and walk up next to him. Felix lets out a hearty laugh.
"Maybe Sir Quacks-a-Lot was being a fucking cunt?" He chuckles.
"It's not funny. She's 3 and has the mouth of a sailor!" You softly slap his arm.
"It's kind of funny. I swear she's not that bad though." He finishes putting the food on the plates and starts taking it to the table.
"Oh for fuck's sake," You hear a tiny voice say from down the hall. You turn to Felix and and quirk an eyebrow, crossing your arms.
"To be fair, I thought she had her headphones on." He sheepishly smiles.
"Uh huh... Lovebug! Come say goodbye to daddy! He's going to spend some time at Uncle Channie's for a time out."