Elliot has been trying on a swear word - the bad one. He heard it by reading the lyrics in a song in Dan's "Acoustic Guitar Bible." I quickly corrected him and explained not only was this a mean word but also a very shocking and bad word - never to be said even while discussing the word. So now he has taken to referring to it as "you know that word I said...." and he is completely fixated on the consequences that will occur if he says it. "How many minutes would I have to stay in my room without music and books if I said 'that word I said', Mom? If I had to go to the office at school would I need to be there all day?? Would I get to come home?? Would I get in trouble with the police?" This brings us to tonight, as I'm helping Elliot dry off after a shower. He is drilling me with questions about "that word he said" . . . . again. Exasperated I say, "Elliot! Just don't say the word and you'll never have to worry about it. PLEASE, try to fill your brain up with thoughts of something happier."

His immediate reply is, "I'm going to think about riding a red double-decker bus because I miss London so much." And then he bursts into tears. We hug, hard.

Yesterday Quinton asked when we were moving back to London. I asked him why. He cried and said, "Because I need to see all my friends." How quickly I forget that for every pang of longing for London I get the boys also have one, yet don't necessarily have the skills to articulate it or recognize how they are feeling. I guess we need to talk about it a bit more, and maybe take a peek through our memory box and pictures. We miss you, London.