I believe that I have invented a new word. And, I have been using it all around the house. I blurted it out a few mornings ago.
I couldn’t get my high school senior out of bed for school. I was agitated and doing too many things at once. Danny, my youngest, was ignoring my shouts to get up. Which meant I had to trudge all the way to the back of the basement to roust his lazy a out of bed. (Yes, I have turned into a woman with a son living in the basement. The horror.) I trompe on down the stairs with my 15-year-old border collie leading the way, or getting in the way was more like it, while thinking of an appropriately firm, no threatening, no joking, no PISSED OFF thing to say to let him know that I meant business.
“Danny! Come on.” I said trying to pull off his comforter. “Let’s go, fucko!” Which, if you think about it, is somewhere between fartface and bucko, which is what I was thinking. Bad things happen when I have too much going on in my mind. Danny shot up and hurtled out of bed like monkey on a space shuttle.
“Ge’ez, Mom! I’m going.” He said.
I laughed all the way up the stairs not even bothering to explain that I couldn’t find the right word and didn’t mean to say something so offensive. I get way to much flack for my tip-of- the- tongue disease as it is and it’s just fine with me to keep the kids guessing. And, I’ve discovered a sexy little french phrase for this memory phenom too, Presque vu. At least the French understand me.
Of course Mike, my dear hubby, believes that I must have heard the word from somewhere else. Today as we were driving around and he was about to run the car up a curb I said, “Watch it fucko!” And I giggled at my proper use of my new invention.
“You didn’t invent that word.” He said.
“Sure I did, you know I did the other day with Danny in the basement.”
“You must have seen it on Goodfellas or some movie like that.” He said.
“Nope, I invented it.” I said. “Goodfellas! They don’t say fucko in Goodfellas, I would have remember that.”
“Well, I’m sure somebody else said it before you.” He said.
“Maybe so, but have they used on purpose? I don’t think so. Beside it’s up to someone else to prove that they invented it. I’m going to claim it tonight on my blog.”
Fucko: noun, the proper name to call your husband when you jump into bed feeling a little hopeful only to be greeted by his sniggering and a wicked SBD. Proper usage: Thanks a lot, fucko.