My husband just turned 43. I don’t know why but odd numbered birthdays seem to hit him harder than the even ones and this year—possibly subconsciously—he’s test driving a new tactic to combat aging: adopting our 10 year old’s slang.
Yes, it’s cheaper than a flashy new car and a lot less frightening than some Bruce Jenner-style plastic surgery, yet I can’t help but feel that, as our son would say, it’s an epic fail.
Not only has this phrase woven its way into many a conversation but it’s been joined by others that at first I thought were just a casual attempt to seem more hip but have now become cause for greater concern.
Recently he went shoe shopping and returned with a very run-of-the-mill pair of “kicks.”
“Check it out. These shoes are so boss,” he exclaimed as he proudly freed the Hush Puppies from their box.
I took a closer look. I’m sorry but there was nothing “boss” about them. In fact, they were the same standard brown loafers he purchases every six to eight months.
They’re not Hugo Boss nor are they anything that “The Boss” Bruce Springsteen would ever don except maybe as part of a Halloween costume in which he’s masquerading as a mall walker or someone trying to alleviate lower back pain.
When I first heard him saying things like, “That stadium you built on Minecraft is totally rad” I thought he was just trying to connect with the kids. But now this new vernacular is spilling into other areas and when he recently said, “Liz, this month’s Discover bill is going to be ginormous” I felt a George Costanza-like panic rising up in me—worlds are colliding.
I think “doing him a solid” by turning a deaf ear to this isn’t doing him any favors and I’m going to have to confront him about it soon-probably between Christmas and New Year’s when he’s got some time off from work, which, by the way, he’s totally “stoked” about. (Oh no! Work! Could he be he using these words at work? If so, that would be a ginormous fail. We need to have this talk NOW!)
I don’t want to hurt his feelings but I also don’t want to be called “Dude” at holiday parties –as in “Dude, these scallops wrapped in bacon are totally boss!”
I confess, I’ve always been a gal who swoons each time someone uses “avuncular” or “campestral” correctly and while I don’t expect him to walk around the house spouting words like “posthumously” and “penultimate” I’m not prepared to be married to Jesse Pinkman either.
Often I’m left wondering where these fellas have dug up these out-of-date phrases. Is there a time machine next to our furnace that I’ve been overlooking (and if so can I go back to the days when I awoke without pain in my left knee and a stiff neck)?
Is my husband reliving his youth by taking a walk through the urban dictionary? It’s nearing the point where I almost wish they’d talk like pirates rather than this. Arrgh!
I know I’m not alone and other spouses are beleaguered by corporate jargon, living in households where there's plenty of chatter about “Kool Aid drinkers,” "creating synergies," and “low-hanging fruit.” I also know that this is just a phase that will pass, much like when he was going to become a weight lifter. Until then, I will try to "be chill" knowing that when things return to normal it will be an epic win for everyone.