Here is a favourite story about me my auntie Lori tells

I was about 2 or 3 I think. I was sitting in the kitchen doorway playing, and my mom was cooking dinner. She was opening a can of mushrooms and dropped them all over the floor, making a huge mess. She shouted, "Sh*t!" cleaned it up, opened more and proceded to make dinner.

When dinner was served my aunt, who lived with us, my dad and mom and I all sat down. I saw the mushrooms on the table and said, "May I have some sh*t please?" Auntie Lori started laughing and my dad blamed HER for the language, and my mom had to sheepishly admit that it was her!!!