When I was growing up, there was a phrase in our house: “baking cookies.”
Apparently, whenever there was something my mom didn’t want to do, she made cookies instead. Usually these were rock-hard chocolate-chip, but sometimes fork-tined peanut butter. Whatever. I didn’t care. It only happened a few times each year, but for whatever the reason, I was blissfully unaware yet eternally grateful.
I love how phrases arise in families that mean something other than originally intended. I am trying to think of how this applies to my own family but I’m just drawing blanks.
Procrastination, though, that’s something I can get behind.
My whole mind is a blank today. I’ve been unable to post at Strollerderby all day; everything I start writing just sounds trite. I’m totally into my NaNoWriMo project, though, and read an installment to everyone over dinner today.
Serena: You sound just like a real author!
Me: I am a real author.
Serena, astounded: Really? But you haven’t written anything.
Ooh. The bitter truth of a seven-year-old.
No worries.
But I’m dealing with the-glass-is-half-empty-syndrome today. Which leads me to believe I have been deceiving myself all this time. And have bitten off more than I can handle. And this is only Day #2.
A long month.
November 3rd, 2007 at 10:57 am
We called the stuffing from the turkey ‘mud’. Because my mom’s kinda tasted like mud. I’m not sure how we all knew what mud tasted like.
That’s all I have too. Maybe if enough people comment, you can compile an anthology of funny family sayings. Or not.
November 5th, 2007 at 11:31 am
Yeah, it’s funny how every family has its own language, its own symbol system, its own myths even. They’re like little religious sects. Or something.