Say what?

"I'm a hoe," announced our youngest child, slamming on the breaks to the card game in play.
Moving onto her third blueberry muffin, she had just been called a pig by her 13-year-old sister.
Of course, it doesn't take much of a leap to see that hoe to an 11-year-old is 'ho' to 16- and 18-year-old siblings.
The hoe claim hung in the air over the kitchen counter as the laughter erupted and swallowed us whole. The husband covered his face with his hands. The 13-year-old vanished in embarrassment.
"I think it would be fun to be a hoe on a farm. That way I could be in the dirt with all the animals."
More laughter. Much more laughter.
I don't know what was a greater source of hilarity ... her wildly random thought process or her thoroughly unaware, unintentional dual meaning of the comment. Whichever it was, this would be a keeper in the family lore.
The husband's eyes peeked over his hands, betraying an inner turmoil of humor and horror. He had to say something, but what to say?
I sunk behind my computer screen and tried not to breathe.
"Honey," he said, "just don't ever say that to anyone else."
Well done.