Today as I travel down the freeway from a day out with my 4 year old son, he starts to go on about how he doesn't care what his older brother calls him;

"I don't care if he calls me a bum bum."

"I don't care if he calls me a poo head."

"I don't even care if he calls me the F word."

"That's enough talking about that kind of thing son."

"And Dad I don't even care if he calls me the C word!"

At this point I'm thinking holy crap on a stick my four year old son knows what the C word is!! Tentatively I ask him what the C word is and hold my breath, ready to watch the beginning of the end of his innocence through the rear view mirror, "What is the C word son?"

"Bugger. The C word is bugger and I don't even care if he calls me that." I've never been gladder that 4 year olds can't spell.