My wife finished stitching together the back-of-seat car organizers just in time for the coming weeks of road trips. The trips are looking a bit more manageable now. One will be an eight to nine hour car ride, another four hours and another just three. Hopefully having an organizational tool like these will make the hours of mind numbing Wyoming landscape go by a little easier and the traffic jams heading to southern Colorado will only crush our spirit, not our ability to quickly access a replacement pacifier when the baby inevitably drops one.
Above is the super awesome comic book cover organizer, below the Tardis Van Gogh pattern. Both awesome and I am very proud of my wife for completing the project both quickly and to high quality. When I do a project, it is one or the other. Never both.
In the practical use of the organizers (for the older kid anyway) we have needed to adopt some new rules in the car. Namely, no more shoes. Children’s shoes seem to always be covered in mud or have some sort of pebbles or thorns stuck in them. I do not know where any of this comes from. Some things have no explanation.
In enforcement of these rules on a trip to the in-laws place this weekend, my wife turned back to my oldest son and said, “Hey remember the rule. You don’t want to slime your bag, bug.”
I laughed the rest of the trip and have brought the phrase into conversation many times this weekend.
“You’ll slime your bag, bug” makes no damn sense. There is not one pairing of words that makes the phrase make sense in English. To the passing listener, my wife’s words may as well have been the ramblings of someone experiencing a stroke. The oldest kid instantly kicked his shoes off and said “ok mom”.
Why? Why in the world does the kid understand these words? Because parent slang exists. Sometimes my wife and I will use words that do not exactly compute in the kid’s head so we have to change the phrase to something more within his realm of experience. Slime is messy, messes are dirty. Bag is easier to understand that “back-of-seat organizer.” And bug is nickname (I used to switch between saying ‘big guy’ and ‘buddy’ mid sentence, so he became buggy then bug. Soon, our laziness will result in him simply being ug and then uuuuu. Then he’ll be a teenager and it’ll be uuuuuggggghhhhh. The future is going to be awesome).
The phrase meant “You will make a mess on your new organizer, First Born son, do not continue on your current path.” But it smelled of Point Break surfer terms and it was hilarious.
Do you have any phrases that only make sense to your kids?