Today’s post on The Best Life Collaborative.
I am taking the lazy lady way today. Rhymed without meaning to. Also today’s word of the day is underdog and despite thinking about it all day I can come up with nothing. Also I was at work for 6 a.m. this morning and my brain is a little fitzy. I may write something yet but don’t hold your breath please.
Here is the link to my post on Best Life Collaborative.
Still having issues with the writing but I found humor in this and I hope you do as well.
On the way to school this morning T and me are talking about how if I win the lottery we would go to Egypt for sure. He also still had to go to school but we would travel as much as possible.
We are sitting at the last stop sign before turning right and letting T off. I look over at him. His blue jacket zipped all the way up, hood on, pulled up to his nose. He has been a little crabby this morning.
‘I also want to get a butt lift.’
‘A butt lift.’
‘Mom what is a butt lift?’
‘Well that is when one pays to have their butt lifted. Firmed.’
I glance over and struggled to contain my giggles. T had reared back against the door and his nose was wrinkled in disgust. The look of abject horror was almost too much to stand.
‘No mom, no, you are not allowed a butt lift.’
And than I dropped him off at school and we did our ritual good byes. I love that boy so much. It is fun to tease him because he cannot hide his facial expressions and well those are the most fun to see.
Last week this all began. Thursday was the day of the absolutely mortifying conversation and subsequent change in behaviour. That was all the day that T and me talked. I did not yell or scream, he did not feel he needed to make excuses, we talked. And than we even sat down and had dinner together.
As T and me are eating and having even more conversations, I slowly become aware of the fact the every other word out of T’s mouth is like. Followed by um. Flashback to the day before when I was going to the back to do something and passed a young woman on her phone. Every second word in that 30 second snippet I overheard was like. Like this, like that.
Now I guarantee you that as Chichi is reading this, she is howling over her cup of Yarba chortling ‘oh Jay.’
The story behind the word like in our household:
I am a child of the 70’s and 80’s. Valley Girl idioms made their way as far north as Winnipeg, Manitoba. So like was a popular word. My mom hates it. My aunt who is an editor hates it. I now realize why.
In February 2016 I went and spent two weeks with my mom. Am pretty sure that those two weeks saved my life because when I came back home I had a game plan for how to move away from the toxicity I found myself in. Chichi and me walked a lot and talked. We always have. Or rather, I have always told her everything and she in return tries to not offer advice but listen and allow me to talk my way through it.
I imagine after about a week Chichi was exasperated by my continued use of the word like in my sentences. Finally she demanded of me if I knew how often I said the word like when I was speaking. I was taken aback. I never use the word like I countered. Really? Chichi challenged me to listen to what I was saying and to count how many times I used it.
Holy cow Batman!
It was horrible. I was using like as though it were fairy dust and I was sprinkling that shit everywhere.
Like is the lazy way of speaking, Chichi and my Aunt ringing in my head. You are in too much of a rush to speak and not to find the words that will help you express what you need to. (As a writer I understand however 2 years ago I was still bumbling around in the dark, lost and buried beneath my life and unhappiness.)
It took a lot of perseverance but I was able to do it. I stopped in the middle of sentences a lot for a while when the word like danced on my tongue. But I did it.
Now flash forward to my household and T’s receiving the exact same lecture that I did 2 years ago. I explained how it was considered to be a lazy way of speaking. That he needed to slow down and think about what he was saying. T looked at me and went okay mom. And as I type this I realize that I have not heard him use the word like at all.
Before though you raise your morning coffee/tea and salute me in this I do have a confession to make:
I have discovered another word that I overuse when I am writing text messages or am talking and that word is ‘Just.’
I just walked in the door.
I just got off the phone.
I just, I just, I just, must, need to find another word to describe the moment.