Get Gas

When Girl was about 3, and Boy was 7, we loaded up Jeep to head to an appointment.  Heading out the driveway I noticed we were really low on fuel. 

The conversation:
Me:   Boy remind me to get gas when we get home.
Boy:  'K, mom.

But Girl started to bawl.  Cry. Cry. Cry.   Both Boy and I were stumped.

Me:  Did you hurt her?
Boy:  Nope.  I don't know what she's blubberin' about.
Me:  Girl.  Girl.  What on earth is wrong?
Girl:  Sniff.  Sniff.  You, you said when we get  home you're going to kick ass and I don't even know what I did.
Me:  I said 'get gas' not 'kick ass' you silly. 
Girl:  Oooohhh.
Boy:  laughing. Ha ha, you said "ass...."

Sigh