Thursday, September 5, 2013

Always Rock the Nerdom

The Girl walked into the living room last night with her shirt pulled up slightly to expose her stomach area, and she was rubbing her belly as a sign of just having eaten an amazing meal.
Pic courtesy of WeHeartIt

"Hey, Mom, look at my stomach. Isn't it luscious?"

I shot her the Look of Death.

"Isn't it what?"

"Luscious. Like my hair," and she giggled.

I did not pass go, I did not collect $200, I went directly into Oh Hell No Mom Mode.

"The word 'luscious' is NOT used to describe stomachs, especially those of 11 year olds. Where did you hear that?"

"It's just what everyone says. Hair is luscious. Clothes are luscious. Abs are luscious."

"Abs are NOT luscious. Clothes are NOT luscious. I don't give a rat's ass if this is the new word of your generation, you will NOT be using it."

I grabbed my phone and googled the definition of 'luscious' as she stared at me with eyes as wide as saucers, and started to argue with me. She obviously had no idea what she had just stepped into.

Luscious, by definition:
  • (of food or wine) having a pleasingly rich, sweet taste. "a luscious and fragrant dessert wine"  
  • richly verdant or opulent. 
  • (of a woman) very sexually attractive
I read The Girl these definitions, with the following points:
  1. Hair, clothes and abs are NOT food or wine.
  2. If she could tell me what 'verdant' and 'opulent' meant without looking them up, she could use the word 'luscious' however and whenever she wanted to.
  3. Are 11 year old girls supposed to be sexually attractive, to which she crinkled up her nose and said, "No... ew."
My daughter actually understood, at that moment, why she wasn't allowed to use the word luscious anymore. Not only did she understand, she didn't fight me on it. I had logically proven my case, with irrefutable evidence, that she couldn't argue... so she didn't. She said, "Okay" and went on with her business.

I was shocked. I had actually won a case against my daughter in less than a minute and a half, and I didn't even have to use the phrase, "Because I'm the Mom and I said so." I had educated my daughter and positively changed her behavior, both in one quick parenting move, spawned by an annoyance over the incorrect use of a word. 

I was on cloud nine.
One mascara I will never be using...

I hate the word luscious. Always have. No idea why, it just seriously urks my nerves. It just sounds so dirty to me- not naughty kind of dirty, but bottom of the biohazard dumpster outside of a liposuction clinic dirty. There are so many better words that could be used instead of luscious: succulent, sultry, ravishing, that I can't help but wonder why anyone would use luscious to describe anything. To me, luscious is that word that uneducated imbred trash uses to describe their cousin they want to have sex with. Barf.

So, when The Girl walked into the room, incorrectly using that particular word, my eye twitched and my gag reflex kicked in. I had to figure out how to make sure she would never use that word again, which was going to take something much more than a simple, "Don't use that word again."

And I did.

Score 1 more for Mom.

Moral of the story: Rocking the nerdom pays. When you can nerd out your justification of a point to a child by citing a dictionary, encyclopedia article or concrete evidence from a past court verdict, I can almost guarantee you that you will win your argument. Always rock the nerdom.

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  1. The word also should never be used by someone who spells it with an "SH" in the middle of it.

    1. Lushious... hahaha, I had to spell it out to see it. That's a very lush-ist way to spell it, I believe. ;)

  2. There are certain words that irk me to no end, for similar I-don't-know-why reasons: tender. delicate. ointment. Effing hate those words. I think I was traumatized as a child and have repressed the memory.

    And luscious. Obviously that's one of them too.

    1. Tender and delicate, huh? So, you're more of a 'rough' and 'powerhouse' type of woman, I take it? I LOVE it, lol. ;)