The "F" Word

Friday morning, in the car, heard from the front seat:

Little Rose: I know what the F Word is.
Francis: DON'T say it.

Silence.

LR:  It starts with F.
F: Don't SAY it! You can't ever say that word.

Silence.

LR: Dad, do you know what it is?
JC: Is it Friday?
LR: NO, Dad, that's not it.
Me: I think I know what it is.
LR: What?
Me: Does it start with "f" and end in "u-c-k"?
LR: Yes.
Me: Is it "firetruck"?
Kidlings: Noooooo, that's not it!
JC: Fart!
Kidlings: No, Dad!
Me: Farfegnugen!
Kidlings: No!
JC: Are you sure it's not Friday?
Little Rose: No, dad, that's really not it.
Me: Flibbertygibbet!
Kidlings: Noooooo!

Silence.

Little Rose: My mom said it the other day.
Francis: Some guy pulled his car out in front of us.
Me: I think it's okay to say it when something like that happens.
JC: I'm sure it just kind of slipped out.

Silence.

Little Rose: Dad, do you know what it is?
Francis: Don't say it!  Don't ever say it.
LR: I'm going to tell you. 
Francis: Oh my god.
LR: No, dad, seriously, do you even know what it IS?

Muffled snickers from the front seat.

JC: Yes, I know what it is. Okay, here's the deal with bad words.  You can say them if you want.  If you do, you will get in a lot of trouble.  But do you really want to say them?

Silence.

Francis: I don't really want to say them.
Little Rose: Me neither.