Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Word. Just Word.

We are having a bit of a kerfluffle around the Mansion concerning Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's use of the word redonkulous. The #1 son has decreed that I am never allowed to utter that word again. Which means that I try to sneak it into every conversation. I don't say it in front of normal people. Just in front of #1. If The Pony or Farmer H happen to overhear, so be it. They don't take issue.

To set up #1 for a little redonkulousfest, I went a couple of days without using the banned word. OK. So maybe it was more like five or six hours without using it. I was waiting for him to have a meltdown over some trivial incident. Then I was going to let it fly. It went a little something like this:

"You, sir, are careening toward the precipice that overlooks the abyss of redonkulousness!"

#1 picked up his new glasses on Saturday morning. He was carrying on about some issue when he climbed back into T-Hoe. It was not really the right time to spring my trap, but I have trouble keeping my own secrets. Alas, I let it slip that I was planning such an event, and he huffed and whined until I told him what it was. He looked straight ahead, and deadpanned, "You are not funny."

But the corners of his mouth were twitching.


Kathy's Klothesline said...

Sounds like way too much fun, so much fun, in fact, to be REDONKULOUS!

Hillbilly Mom said...

I try to spend the better part of each afternoon REDONKULATING.