Last week I brought my daughter with me to go clothes shopping. I instructed her to sit on the bench as I did a "fashion show" for her. She gave her thumbs up or thumbs down on each piece as I tried them on. When it came to the shiny, hot pink blouse and ankle length skirt, she exclaimed, "Mommy! You look like a hottie!" Hottie?! I quizzed my daughter as I implored her to tell me where in the world she learned the term "hottie." She was unable to tell me. I felt caught between flattery (after all, she's called me a Beluga Whale in the past) and dismay at my five year old.
Just as I was moving past this incident, convinced again of my daughter's five-year-old innocence, I heard her jabbering as we waited at the cashier's stand at a big name department store. She was playing with her toy flip phone and announcing that she just received a "text message." The elderly woman ahead of us in line was buying herself a new bassiere. She whirled around at my daughter's words and quizzed her on how old she is and what does she know about "text messages"? Indeed. I decided then and there that I am locking her up until she is thirty!
Later in the car on the way home Dear Daughter's voice addressed me from the back seat, "Mommy? What's a text message?"
At least she didn't ask me what a "hottie" is.
Dear God, send me help. FAST!