Where the **** am I?

Recently a sister of mine outsourced (one of my most favorite pastimes) her children to me as she enjoyed a trip to southern Utah. I'm the cool aunt, we went to the museum, played in the park, ate out every night, watched movies, went to this trampoline place (which was probably covered both in Strep and Rhino viruses) and obviously did some coloring.

However....none of the forementioned events hold a candle to the conversation I had with a nephew on Saturday morning. 

Some Background: He and his sister had been sharing a bedroom on the finest of Aero beds. 

Enter Cade: "Kristen, I just can't sleep with Annie."

Solution: You can start out in my bed, and then I'll move you.

Saturday Morning

"Aunt Kristen when you put put me in your bed I woke up and was like, ""Where the hell am I?"" Now mind you that he is missing a mouth full of teeth, so I paused and responded, "What?"

"Yeah, I woke up and was like...where the HAIL am I, you know like what the hell? Or how in the hell?" 

Do we use that word I questioned? (obviously it was the first time it had been uttered with in my home)

"I guess heck huh," said a deflated Cade. "Yes," I say as I strut down the high road. "And, where did you learn that?" (this time paralyzed in fear of Ange, she'd throw me nose first in the nearest corner for that one)

Then the relief when Cade answered, "Brian Reagan...duh."