Mmm Mmm Mmm, For the Smell of It

Way back in the 1900's, my family had splurged on a pizza. (This was a re-heally big deal for us.) The pizza came, a big, greasy, Philly- which- is- close- to- New- York style beast, and in the middle of it was that dollhouse table thing they started using in the 80s' (which are only 67 years away, have fun with that one tonight) that keeps the cardboard box from sinking into the middle of the pizza. This was in no way remarkable except that instead of calling it a dollhouse table thing, they called it a pietrod. 

I fell in love with that pietrod right there on the spot, partly because I am dyslexic but no one knew it and that word felt right in my head the way no other word ever had before, but mostly because it introduced me to the radical notion that the words I was so reliant on for stability and sanity were simply a bi-product of complacency, that language itself was being created as it dripped from our lips and fingertips - and that I could, if I really thought hard about everything I knew about words without breathing or blinking or anything, break almost any rule and do anything I wanted it to.

Pretty powerful stuff for a kid growing up at the bottom of a patriarchal cult. That was my Frankenstein moment, the moment we all have that pivots us and changes everything to come after it. I think it may have been a Domino's pizza.  I also think this guy totally gets what I'm talking about. 

Photo and epic level of obsession credit: http://brndnwdy.wordpress.com

Photo and epic level of obsession credit: http://brndnwdy.wordpress.com

[Domino's isn't paying me to write this, but Clorox is. Beating Jim at disclosure statements is hard, but I'm giving it my best shot. ] 

I just like to make up words, making up words is my favorite. In fact, I think my last site had a category called Is Too a Word.  However, aside from the few cute kid-words my then-babies made up, I have been hard-pressed to find new word as witty, necessary, and just plain perfect as pietrod.   

Until this.  

I know, right?  I have a few words in the Clorox Icktionary, and I was going to add some more, but really, I think it's over. Shoop just dropped the mic and gangsta-stomped offstage. Next time your kids come in from playing outside, you can do a Shoop-check. If you smell something at a restaurant, you can check the carpet around you for Shoop stains. If you go on a horrible date, you can tell them they make you wanna shoop, shoop ba-doop, shoop ba-doop, shoop ba-doop ba-doop ba-doop at the end of the date and mean it.

Shoop is the perfect word, and it gives me the same tingle in my both my Broca and Wernicke that I did when I was a kid getting my mind blown by some marketing copy taped to a cardboard box surrounding an extra-large heart attack with pepperoni.  It makes me want to play with words again, to see what I have missed because I've been too lazy to look for it.  

It also reminds me that I need to mop my floors in the worst kind of way. Bygones.

What's your favorite not-word-but-should-be? Tell me in the comments, and if it has something to do with ickiness (most of the best ones do, really) you should totally submit it to Clorox's Icktionary at www.icktionary.com

Is Too a Word

This post is sponsored by Clorox® Ick-tionary. Just FYI for the FTC.

My kids' last day of school is today and I really can't even wrap my head around the fact that this year has already ended. I mean, we JUST moved here before the school year had started and if the school year is over, that means that I like OFFICIALLY live in Arizona or something, doesn't it? Even my seven year old daughter remarked that this year went by really fast, and nothing at all ever goes by really fast for seven year old girls. One minute, I had a bright eyed and bushy tailed 1st grader, and two eager boys ready to enter jr high and high school all shiny and Axe'd to the gills. Now I have three large kids all somewhere on the pubery-spectrum, and all completely over it. 

My house is about to smell *awesome*.

My children are all of the age when cleanliness is next to impossibleness. I keep telling my sons that no one makes out with the smelly boy, but they don't care. At 15 and 13, they'd rather be hung by their putrid toes than face the shower. For a while there, they were both showering really super regularly, but then I decided to move my daughter into my room so that the boys could each have their own room, and the daily (sometimes even twice-daily) showers came to a screeching hault. I can't imagine why. 

Even my seven year old daughter is so totally over bathing, and this is the kid who just last year would take baths for days. I could plop her in the tub and go write an entire novel; she'd stay there, happily waterlogging away, for as long as I'd let her. 

Of course, every blessing usually turns into a curse, if you just wait long enough. Case in point.

(That, my friends, is called a Poop-edo, or a Tubtanic, or how to get your seven year old son out of your one year old daughter's bathtub with little to no effort on your part.)

Those days of her daudling away hours in the tub are long gone, just like this school year is, but she takes swimming lessons so she's at least getting a decent chlorine-dunk twice a week.

Her brothers both take MMA. With adult UFC fighters.

MMA.jpg

You can't even imagine the smell. 

So I'm pretty excited to spend all day, every day, for the next 70 days or so with them in our adorable, but not terribly large, house in the middle of the god-forsaken desert during summer. 

And I haven't even started thinking about the trail of tears these children leave behind them everywhere they go. My son was home for 27 minutes today and it took me an hour to clean up the mess he made in that time. And then I remembered that it would have only taken me 16 seconds to yell at him for making it, and then I could have spent the rest of that hour watching him clean up after himself and knitting scarves for the winter THAT NEVER COMES HERE. I am slow, but I get there eventually.

Anyway. I've gone off topic. The topic at hand is the fact that my children are kind of gross, a-little-more-than-un motivated, and out of school for the summer, and (I think) competing for title of Best Mess Maker in Least Amount of Time. I call this The Alice Coup'r.

Or maybe their no-showering teenage-goopy butts are stuck in a tiny little house with me all summer long, because lord knows it's too hot to check the mail before 2:37 am, and what they are about to do to my poor house can only really be described as Stick(y)holm Syndrome

Life with kids is epicly icky. It is also very, very  funny. My car has had crabs, I've stood fascinated watching a child vomit out of their nose, I've attempted to catch vomit (#7), I've smelled wet sheets that were wet for all the wrong reasonsWe all have.

(Well, maybe not the sheets bit. I think you're probably smarter than that. Please be smarter than that.)

And that's the beauty of the internet - we get to laugh at each other. With. I MEANT WITH.  Clorox®, with the help of some of us who've been there & done that, created the Clorox® Ick-tionary – a wiki-style dictionary that we hope will become a new language of how we talk about messes and icky situations parents face, conquer, and laugh about.

It's kind of hilarious, really. From Board-‘oeuvres to Petrifries, if it's happened to you, it's going to show up in the Ick-tionary eventually. There are coupons for cleaning supplies to make your children scrub their black fingerprints off the walls with, interactive games to play (Match the Mess, which is kind of the safe version of Sniff the Stain, which I've done. In underwear I've found on the floor. I have no idea why. I am an idiot.) and new words to read every week. Each week will have a featured words - this week's featured word is Hippocratic Oaf (aka Germpocracy), which is something I won't be again for a long time because there is no more school to send my kids to even though they have Green 11's

You can actually submit your own awesome words for messed up stuff to the Ick-tionary at www.icktionary.com. I think I'll have a few words up there eventually (this one is me!), but I don't think anything is ever going to top Secret Garden.