The Evolution of Language

 So what happened was this…

The kids hate brussels sprouts. Loathe them. Whine about the smell them taking over the kitchen. Said they smelled like farts. (Teenagers. What a joy.)

After a few ill-advised attempts to sneak them into the kids’ diets via a well loved protein, well, they evolved.

The kids called them “chicken farts.”

Now Safeway has packaged vegetable dishes– they come all  prepared with a dollop of chipotle butter, diced garlic and onions, and all you have to do is cook them. They’re delicious. 

The kids call them “garlic farts.”

And I need a little protein with my garlic far–erm, vegetables, so I added that pretend crab stuff.

I call it “fake fish”.

Which I made for dinner last night. There were leftovers, and I heated them up for lunch.

“Oh my God, Mom–wtf are you eating?”

*sigh*  “Fish farts.”

How could you make it worse?”

Want some?”

“I’m going to make ramen now, thank you. Take that shit away!”

“Fine. Do the dishes.”


But the point here is that brussels sprouts and fake crab are now “Fish Farts” in my family, and there is now way to unring that bell. 

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