Tiref*ck!

Life in Mimiland is never dull and today only further proved this point. After depositing the xy chromosomes in educationland, Sophie Anabelle and I made our trek home, singing happily to the radio when we happened to pass a FIRETRUCK. This, of course, sends her into a monologue about her trip to the firestation with her preschool class. She went into great detail about the station, the beds, the television and kitchen, you know, all that way important stuff that all four year olds cannot live without. Then she says, "We saw two cute firemen and got to get on the *TIREFUCK*!" My head snaps up. I've made it no secret that I adore profanity, it makes me happy and I can use it with such eloquence and grace that it is truly astounding! However, I do not EVER want this profanity to leave the lips of my stunning preschool princess. EVER. Surely, I heard wrong, right? I clear my throat, "You did what?" Now I'm convinced I must have misinterpreted what she said. Really, this nonsense just isn't possible. She repeats herself with more force, "We got on the *tirefuck* and they turned on the woowoo's (sirens)." Tirefuck? Tirefuck? What in the blue hell is a tirefuck and how the hell did my daughter learn about it? I'm wracking my brain, what the hell is a dayum tirefuck?? OH!!! I have it! "Do you mean a FIRETRUCK?" She nods happily, "Yeah Mom, that's what I said. A tirefuck!" Ahhh, alright. Tirefuck it is!!