Just last week I blogged about what a sweet kid my 4-year-old Evan is. But yesterday he temporarily turned into a rude and ungrateful little boy.

I had taken great care in ensuring that the boys' Easter baskets contained an equal number of treats and small toys. Did I make sure that each item was the SAME EXACT COLOR? No. I didn't really think that would be a problem.

But after the initial euphoria of opening Easter baskets had worn off, and I was dozing on the couch at 8 a.m. as the boys played with their new stuff, I heard the all-too familiar wail from Elias that indicated something had been taken away from him. I opened my eyes. A distraught Evan was holding a blue egg that had once held a Hot Wheels car while Elias was crying that it was his. Apparently Evan didn't get a blue egg among the three that contained brand-new cars. I told him that they each got the same number of cars, and that I didn't want to hear any more out of them.

Five seconds later, there was the unmistakable sound of jealousy rearing its ugly head again. Eli crying, Evan acting as though it was a huge injustice that he did not receive a blue plastic egg container. I told him once again that he and Elias both got the same amount of toys and candy and that he should be thankful to the Easter bunny instead of whining. And that the color of the egg didn't matter. I closed my eyes.

"Shut up."

Those two little words were uttered so calmly, yet almost tentatively. And they came out of Evan's mouth for the first time. My jaw dropped. I bolted out of the couch.

"Time out -- NOW," I told Evan.

He went, crying.

I immediately marched into my bedroom and informed Jeff of what Evan had said. Nothing I say usually stirs him out of bed, but his eyes immediately opened. Take his basket away, my husband said firmly.

I wasn't willing to go that far, but Jeff was insistent that Evan's entire Easter basket should be off limits, at least for a little while. He then went in Evan's room and gave him a stern talking-to that provoked the kind of tears usually accompanied by hyperventilating.

Eventually, Evan got his basket back. After an apology. Jeff and I were both aghast that Evan would ever say such a thing. But that's the influence of TV, I guess. And I was left wondering if we addressed it properly.

Any thoughts? How old were your kids when you first became the victim of their shocking language?