[Michelle is on retreat, but the blog appears courtesy of Blogger's scheduled posts feature!]
Math Man has a new vehicle. Requiescat in pacem to the old minivan, long life to the new station wagon. I sat in the back seat with Barnacle Boy on the shakedown cruise (a ski outing) and played Scrabble on his iPod. I played "nary" - he harrumphed. "It's a word. I've just got a good vocabulary." He played "blet". It's a word, but I didn't know what it meant. Harrumph!
The straw that broke the camel's back was "jete" - which I said was a ballet term, from the French. At which point the Boy made some snarky comment about people who used "jete de foie gras".
Jump over that liver!
Blet means the hidden decay of overripe fruit. Blech!
God bless all the station wagons in the world. We all know, of course, that station wagons are the only respectable kind of car to be seen in. Amen.
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