The thread asking about childhood memories that bring a smile made me remember some “boots” I had that I pliked were cowboy boots. The were just some rubber galoshes that had the soles breaking loose and flapping when I walked. I was maybe 5 at the time.
I don’t really smile thinking about that since it was so pathetic, but it did make me think about “plike” and I got curious if there were other terms like that.
Oh, yeah. I haven’t thought about that since last century. Wow.
We used plike to set up a scenario to start Army or Cowboys and Indians or something similar. “Plike you’re and Indian and I’m a cowboy you captured. You’ve got a knife (this was a handy stick of course) and I knock it away and you have to chase me.” And we were off and running–literally.
On a boring Saturday I wrapped my arm in gauze, fashioned a sling out of one of my mom’s dishtowels and went around town limping and pliking I’d had an accident.
Guess I wasn’t getting enough attention. . .
My dad gave me an olive drab parka for Christmas. Wasn’t I androgynous enough for him or something? I’d use it to plike a boy and spend the day doing all the fun things boys got to do that youngladies could never get away with. Like going down to the city dump, talking rough and taking down assorted real boys to rub their faces in snow. Now that was living!
When I was little, I pliked a T. Rex. I fashioned a tail out of flimsy cardboard, stuffed it with wadded up toilet paper, and stuck the non=pointy end down the back of my pants. Then I cut out some dino feet and white-glued them to the bottoms of my bare feet. Then I walked around with my hands making tiny claws.