Mom: “Perv”? No one says “perv.” That must be a preppy term. [This accusation of preppiness is new and somewhat inexplicable. But it’s better not to question my mother on these sorts of things.]
M: Dad’s been whipping out with all sorts of new terms lately. Things I’ve never heard before.
Adam: Like what?
M: Asswipe.
A: [Light strangled noises.]
M: Have you ever heard the term “asswipe” before?
A: Yes, mom.
M: You have?
A: Sure. It’s a…[groping for words]…perfectly acceptable piece of slang.
M: Well I’ve never heard it before. Dad’s been using it a lot lately.
Dad: [Grinning in an strangely self-satisfied way] I don’t know why all of a sudden. It just seems appropriate.
M: You’ve been running into a lot of asswipes lately? [Based on the relish with which my mother uses the term, she is obviously enjoying herself.]
D: Yes. You should hear the message someone left me at work today. Real asswipe.
Episodes like this are a big part of the reason that too much time at home starts to feel like an out-of-body experience.
