First Day of Swim Lessons

Our first day of swim lessons went well. I did not think we would be able to make it since Anna has been sick since Friday night with a fever and a cold. But she was fever free since yesterday morning, and jumped up and starting taking her pjs off and trying to get into a size 4T swimsuit (which would be like me trying to get into a size 6 suit, except it is the exact opposite problem). She told me, No! I NOT sick. I AM going in the pool RIGHT NOW.
I was a little peeved because I had not properly prepared to be in a swimsuit today. One thing I had meant to do, since there are actually people I know at these lessons, is to lose a good 20lbs first. Obviously, this is not happening, but at the very least, I had some, ahem, grooming issues that should have been taken care of before today.
We got there, and Jonathan just goes off with his teacher (yet another cute teenage girl, just like last summer). He is currently laid up in bed, because this teacher has them hold on to the edge of the pool and kick whenever it is not their turn. His legs are very sore. But he did great! I looked over at him from the WaterBabies section of the pool, and was pleased to see that the teacher has already made more progress with him than I have been able to. He normally won't use his legs and his arms in unision because he has a death grip on me. Anna also did well. She is one of the older kids in the class.
When we were getting ready to leave, and walking away from the group to go to the car, Anna made a loud announcement. "I have got sh*t in my shoes." I laugh nervously and start to usher the kids to the car a little faster. "Oh, what, baby, you have sticks in your shoes?" I say, a little louder than I need to, hoping to clarify to any of the other mothers that may have heard her. "No, Mama! Not sticks. I have got sh*t in my shoes." Anna shrieks this at me, with a little stomp and a little shake of her purple Crocs for emphasis.
What can I say? Do I know exactly where she picked up this sweet little phrase? No. Could I feasibly have let this word slip over the last two years, at some point, long before she could talk, but was secretly filing it all away in her mental language bank? Of course.
My face was bright red as I got her in her carseat. But to be honest, I was also trying my best not to laugh, not even to smile a little bit. And to think, I was worried about the other moms judging me based on my bikini line. I obviously have more to worry about than that.