Small Triumphs and Tasty Sausages

A funny thing happened when I took my children to the grocery store. Yes, ALL my children and no that wasn't the funny thing.
It's track break; it's summer; it's crazy time for DH at work and we are having the end of season soccer bash at our house this afternoon, so I needed to get drinks and ice and a few family incidentals like milk and graham crackers. So, I had no choice but to brave the halls of retail food with all five of my somewhat reasonably well-behaved children (how's that for a qualifying/waffling statement?). We were doing okay. Em was in the front baby basket, CE was walking alongside and Bam and CW were catching rides on either side of the cart as is their habit. Z decided he wanted a ride too but neither boy would "share his side". So, of course, he got mad and began to spew the anger-filled invective of a 6.5 year old boy. Small but important-to-the-story aside: We have been doing battle with the potty mouth for a while now. This is yet another aspect of the Y chromosome and testosterone-in-training that I had no idea about as I grew up in my estrogen rich home of 5 girls and no boys. So, I take this shopping- trip power struggle as a moment of triumph when Z's choice of epithet is: "You, you are such a CHEDDAR WURST!" And CW began to cry. And I began to laugh and try to explain why this was so funny to CW who didn't very much like being called a cheddar wurst. But really, of all the things that he could have been called right there in the dairy section, cheddar wurst seems to me to be a pretty mellow choice. And it shows me that the battle against the potty mouth is slowly being won, at least with Z. And any small victory deserves to be relished, or perhaps mustarded, however you like to eat your cheddar wurst!