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“You think the boat is big enough for everyone?” Winnie asked from the living room, making Remy grin.
“Everyone but Jude and Ty, so yes, it’s perfect.”
Jude laughed. “Fuck you, bro. I’m coming.”
“Jude!”Winnie chastised and nodded toward Lexi. “Can you cool it with the f-bombs, please? There arelittle earshere.”
“You know,” Lexi chimed in, glancing between her mom and Jude. “Studies have shown that people who utilize the word ‘fuck’ in everyday conversations have a higher level of intelligence than people who don’t.”
“Did you hear that, sis?” Jude cracked up. “I’m basically a genius.”
Winnie flashed a glare at her brother as she ran her hands through Lexi’s hair. “I think we can all agree that your uncle Jude is an exception to that study. And, Lexi baby, don’t use that word.”
“When can I use that word, Mommy?”
“When you’re an adult.”
“And when do I qualify as an adult?” Lexi continued to question. “When I’m eighteen and receive the right to vote and can enlist in the military? Or when I’m twenty-one and can legally engage in the purchase of alcohol?”
Remy chuckled and grinned at Winnie. “Your kid is too smart.”
“Tell me about it.” My wife shook her head on a small laugh. “Lex, you can use curse words when you’re twenty-one.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Our daughter just shrugged and went back to watching her iPad.
That was the beauty of a kid like Lexi. If you gave her a rational, concrete explanation or rule or guideline to follow, she accepted it without complaint.
No temper tantrums. No back talk. Just…total acceptance.
Frankly, our biggest challenge with Lexi didn’t revolve around discipline. It revolved around trying to keep up with her crazy-smart brain and finding healthy ways to nurture and challenge it. Which might’ve sounded easy to most people, but you try challenging a seven-year-old who has a stronger understanding of physics than you do.
One of the back deck doors swung open, and everyone looked toward it to find Thatch striding in with a giant-sized grin on his face.
“All right, you fuckers!” he bellowed. “What’s on the agenda today?”
“Fut-ers!” Ace shouted from atop his shoulders. “Fut-ers!”
Immediately, Cassie got all up in her husband’s personal space and poked one index finger into his chest. “I swear on everything, I’m going to murder you in your sleep if you keep teaching my child bad words.”
“I’m sorry, honey,” Thatch chuckled. “I can’t help it that our kid is a genius and repeats everything I say. Clearly, I’m his biggest, coolest role model—which I don’t think you can blame him for.”
“You say a lot of shit, Thatcher. A lot of random fluffing nonsense. And yet, for the past twenty-four hours since he started speaking actual words, your child only repeats the bad language you use. It makes me think you’re using it all the fluffing time when I’m not around.”
“Shiiiiitssss!” Ace shouted through a peal of giggles. “Shhhh-its!”
Thatch, full of himself with satisfaction, smirked down at his wife. “I can’t be sure, honey, but it seems I’m not the only one teaching our child bad words.”
Cassie ignored him expertly and looked over at Winnie. “What do you say, tonight, we kick all these men out of the lake house and have a girls’ night?”
“You trying to get rid of me, honey?” Thatch teased and eased Ace off his shoulders. The instant he put the little guy on the floor, he was off at a sprint, heading directly toward the dining table and Winnie’s brothers.
The life of their game flashed before my eyes.
The instant mini-Thatch reached the table, he started grabbing for anything he could reach, procuring Remy’s cards first and tossing them haphazardly to the floor before going after his stack of chips.
“Shi-itss!” Ace shouted as Remy moved to block his destruction.
“Calm down, buddy,” Winnie’s eldest brother said with a smile. “Do you want to help me play?”
