As I tooled through the subdivision yesterday, I had to veer a bit to avoid a spot in the road where a bunch of contractors' vehicles had parked and double-parked, choking off the street quite effectively. Hitting the brakes, I said loudly, "Man!" Julia instantly piped up from the back seat, "No saying, 'Man," Daddy." Puzzled, I asked, "Why not, Bobo? Why can't I say, 'Man'?" With perfect acumen, she responded, "Those not mans, Daddy; those trucks."


