Some years in our family were leaner than others, but we always offered good hospitality to our friends and family. We had a phrase, ‘FHB,’ for when times were lean but we were having people around.
FHB meant Family Hold Back, i.e. there isn’t as much food on the table as we’d like, so family hold back and let the guests have the share.
We also had a saying for when we were caravanning, which was ‘dirty flash’. A dirty flash is when you’re trying to tart yourself up for, perhaps, a meal out in the nearby town, but you obviously don’t have the same degree of cleaning and preening facilities, so you just do the best you can. I have no idea why it was considered a dirty flash but that’s what it was called!
That’s funny; I’ve been meaning to start a thread like this for a time on words that are made-up in your family. Between my wife and me it is ‘bacon-y’ for someone who is taking up too much space, particularly in bed. It started from one of us quoting the old Sizleens commercial (“Move over bacon–now there’s something meatier!”), was shortened to “Move over, bacon!” and now it’s just, “Quit being bacon-y!” or “You’re all bacon-y!”
If you consider a small staff at work “family,” which IME it kind of is…we have, at the bar I work at, a regular I’ll call “Rob” who has a singularly annoying habit of yelling across the bar, “AUDREY! AUDREY!” (Or the name of whoever is working.)
If you rush over to him, thinking he’s having a crisis of some sort–which his tone and urgency indicates–he will usually be ALMOST finished with his double bourbon on the rocks. He wants you to stand there while he slurps up the last of it, so that he can hand it to you and get it refilled without–God forbid–having an empty glass for more than 15 seconds.
So in our bar shorthand, if we have a customer who is demanding and yells a lot about nothing that’s remotely important–a customer who demands another drink before he’s even finished with the one he has–we say, “And then he got all ROB about it!” or “And then he pulled a ROB!”
, my son started calling those “scrap dinners”. We’ve called leftovers scrap dinners ever since.
My brother and I used the expression “eat your darts, kid” to indicate when something shouldn’t be discussed in front of parents. It came from an old commercial of the 70s.
Too many Simpsons references to count became key phrases that might sound bizarre to outsiders, but made perfect sense to us.
Anything that’s fake or intended to deceive is a Jeremiah.
This started when my son was about four or five, and saw something on TV that made him decide he was scared of ghosts. We patiently explained that there were no such things as ghosts, but he was undeterred.
One night we all heard a creaking sound (random sound from the house) and he immediately grabbed me, panicked, and asked, “What was that?”
Don’t what what possessed me, but I instantly replied, “That sounds like the footsteps of old Jeremiah Creaker. You see, back in 1830, ol’ Jeremiah lived around here, and he used to walk the steps, day and night. Some say you can still hear his footsteps today.”
Eyes wide: “Really?”
“No, son. I just made that up, just like all ghost stories are made up. This house didn’t even exist in 1830.”
And for some reason, that was more convincing than all of our previous explanations. It was a story I made up, not anything real. A couple of nights later, the wind blowing gave rise to ol’ Jeremiah Breezey. Jeremiah Dropper showed up after a rainstorm. Jeremiah Homework was responsible for a lost assignment (his own contribution to the Jeremiah mythos). Soon it became shorthand… I wouldn’t even have to get far. “You see, back in 1830…” . . . . “Papito!!!”
And now when he, or my wife and I, see something phony or made up… it’s a Jeremiah.
When someone in the immediate family has, as my 11-year-old son would call it, an “epic fail” with some embarrassment, we convene for a quick Mocking. A Mocking consists of you pointing at the person, saying “I Mock you!!” and then saying “mock mock mock mock mock” as quickly as you can until you all crack up giggling. You sound like a complete idiot - which is kinda the point: we get to tease someone we love for whatever they did that was embarrassing, but we look like morons ourselves so it takes the edge off…
My mother’s sister Annie used to live with my parents before I were born and she drove them up a wall, so all my life, when I’m doing something that annoys my father, he’ll casually call me Annie and I’ll know I need to knock it off.
I don’t know if this quite counts, but my dad doesn’t cook, he makes “concoctions” or (worse) “experiments.” If you see him bustling around the kitchen, humming to himself, and you ask, “Hey, whatcha makin’?” and he answers merrily, “It’s an experiment!”…he has attempted a flavor combination never before conceived of by man, and you need to get out now before he serves you a bowl. Or if you see my brother glumly spooning something into his drooping mouth and you ask him what he’s eating and he mumbles, “It was an experiment,” you’ll know he didn’t flee from our dad in time.
Our family calls bar soap “people soap” (it’s for washing people instead of just hands) and you’ll still see it on the shopping list at my parents’ house.
We have the “Three Second Gloat” rule. A typical event: Your sister lands on Boardwalk when you have a hotel. You are allowed to gloat, rejoice, etc., but for no more than 3 seconds. Anyone can invoke the 3 second rule.
The insult of insults at our house is “moose hole.” When my son was in kindergarten he called his sister a moose hole and it was clear that this was a very bad thing. We never did get a definition from him or anyone else. But it lives on.
A long time ago my dad was describing a woman who was well-endowed in the sweater region by saying, “she had…” and then holding out his hands in front of him, fingers spread as if holding large breasts. My mom then said, “what, arthritis?”.
Now well-endowed women are referred to in my family as having arthritis.
We’ve got “Charette-city” for a very difficult situation that isn’t really all that difficult. For example, the baseball game ran too long and the show I wanted to watch is postponed. “Oh no charette-city.”
Also, Oombrie Aago (I think that’s how you spell it) is the guy who stays behind and makes sure the lights are turned on at night when we went on vacation.
Our family says “used bread store” for the discount outlet too.
“Cognomen syndrome” is a person with a name related to their identity.
“Is this my hand?” (something I actually asked when I was about 2 :o) is the expression for a dumb question.
“Dirt cookies” are the super-cheap store brand sandwich cookies my father likes.
“Geezer pass” is the National Parks senior citizen pass.
When I was a kid I must have seen a commercial extolling a product that would remove stains, including “grease from the car door”. This me as I didn’t see this was a real risk. Now if a clothing stain is mentioned: Oh no! Grease from the car door?!
And one of the priests once mentioned how everyone would come to church and seem devout and then make a beeline to “beat their brother out of the parking lot”. This remains a grevious offense we cite.
Not really shorthand but “srevotfel” (pronounced srev-ot-fell) for “leftovers” ------- always made them sound ethnic.
Pap’s rule -------- a shorthand expression meaning that whatever the discussion or debate, you just aren’t going to win. It’s actually a short form of a favorite expression of my Grand-dad; “never argue with crazy people”.
On rare occasions my brother, sister, and I would all get along. One day my brother noticed that if you put together each of our first initials, it spelled GAT. I pointed out that we needed to include Snooky, our dog, hence GATS. From that point on, whenever just the three of us played together, it was “A meeting of the GATS Club.” To this day, it’s only that if no one else is around (such as spouses or girlfriends). Parents are an exception. The last true GATS Club meeting (they are very rare) was in June, with us kids in the back seat of the car and mom and dad up front.
“Mom, Greg’s hitting me!” I think dad actually threatened to turn the car around. Good times.
mole grinders: one time my three sisters, my folks, and I were eating in one of those restaurants where they have old farm implements nailed to the wall as decoration. I asked what one was, mom didn’t know so she said, “Mole grinder. They grind moles with it.” We loved it and pointed around the room at mole choppers, mole slicers, mole squishers. To this day, any mystery implement is a mole (whatever).
“My ancient land”. My baby sister started this when she was 4 or 5. One day she walked out on the porch with nothing on except a towel wrapped around her head and face. We all stared at her and she announced, “This is what we wear in My Ancient Land.” She pulled it out from time to time to explain odd things she was doing, and it came to be a general explanation for anyone in the family. Mama did once ask her, when she was 6, where her ancient land was. She thought a moment and solemnly said, “Mex-i-mo City.” Yeah, I dunno.
me as I didn’t see this was a real risk. Now if a clothing stain is mentioned: Oh no! Grease from the car door?!