Sweaty Meatloaf or My Daddy is a Pottymouthed Driver.

Delaware is crawling its way through a string of consecutive ninety plus degree days. It has been most unpleasant, the kind of weather where the seat belt buckles in the car burn your fingers when you try to buckle up. 

Yesterday The Peanut and I were out in the backyard. I was grilling up some burgers and she was chasing our psychotic beagle around the yard. I found myself becoming exhausted and overheated, losing electrolytes simply by standing there and watching the two of them run and jump around and on each other.

After about fifteen minutes the beagle loses interest and moves onto something infinitely more interesting, smelling her own behind. The Peanut trudges over to me and says "Whew daddy! It's so hot out here I'm sweating like a meatloaf!" 

After depositing that peculiarly curious simile on me she tips me a wink, gives me a thumbs up, and heads into the house. I have no idea where she picked up such a bizarre expression. The Wife says it is an ICarlyism, picked by The Peanut on one of her repeated viewings of the Nickelodeon show. I don't know about that for sure but I do know The Peanut, like most kids her age, is an absolute sponge when it comes to listening to people talk and having an elephant's memory in recalling what she hears, usually at really embarrassing times.

Case in point.

She was playing with a friend today at her grandmother's house. Apparently, after about an hour of play, The Peanut walked into the kitchen looking very unhappy. My step-mom reported to me that she asked The Peanut what was wrong. She replied that her friend had called her an asshole and she did not like how that made her feel.

After said friend was handed out the appropriate consequences, The Peanut reportedly turned to my step-mom and proceeded to thrown her father right under the unforgiving wheels of the proverbial bus. "That's a really bad word mom-mom. I know because that is what daddy calls all the bad drivers on the road who don't drive safe."

Ouch. 

I guess when she is listening to her music or playing her Leapster in the car on our morning commutes, and I think she is totally oblivious to everything else, her ears are still tuned into what I am saying (shouting).

Knowing that makes ME sweat like a meatloaf...