Mickey Mouse has a potty mouth.

I walked into the room Duckie is staying in this morning, still half asleep as my sweet 3 year old (I still can't believe I have a 3 year old!) bounced into my lap and said, "You're my best girl, god dammit!"

I nearly choked on my spit and was immediately awake.

Slowly, I asked her, "Where did you hear that?"

Admittedly, Momma has a potty mouth, but I try desperately to sensor myself, yet my child still correctly knows how to use "shit." But "god dammit" is something I simply never say. And neither does J.

"Mickey Mouse says it," H answered.

Only this past week has H ever seen a show with Mickey Mouse or have any real concept of who he is. J is pretty anti-all characters, and I have no deep connection to any so have been indifferent. And since we don't have cable at home it's not really an issue. But since we've been at my sister in laws house, Disney Junior (is that what it's called?) has become a part of our mornings.

J would just be thrilled to know.

"I don't think Mickey Mouse says that, love," I replied.

"Yep. He does."

 Anyone who's ever come into contact with a 3 year old knows that arguing with them is futile. So I moved on. "What do you think 'god dammit' means?"

"Oh, you know," her contagious smile still plastered to her face, "it's synonymous for 'oh my goodness!'"

"Then why don't we say 'oh my goodness' instead? It sounds a bit nicer to me."

Her eyebrows arched high as she sighed. "Okaaaay. But Mickey Mouse doesn't actually say 'oh my goodness.' He says 'god dammit.'"

I don't love admitting I'm wrong. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe J knows something I don't about characters and Mickey really is corrupting my kids.

I mean, at least according to my 3 year old it is so.