Where's June Cleaver When We Need Her?

I really needed her today. I needed her to walk up to the couch, take my cell phone, and say, "Excuse me, dear. I speak Jive."

You see, today I'm officially old. Well, maybe I was long ago, but it didn't feel so final then as it does today. Today something really good happened. Really. It was just in relating it to The Young Man that I felt, once and for all, like a true fuddy-duddy.

This afternoon I took The Dog out on one of his many "I-really-don't-hafta-potty-I'm-just-gonna-make-you-think-that-so-you'll-take-me-out-and-I-can-sniff" excursions when he spotted our new neighbor. In true half hound/half chicken style he growled and barked menacingly, effectively scaring the poor woman, and then crept up to her shoes to sniff her and then yelp and back away as she reached down to pet him.

Yep, fierce.

Anyway, it turns out that she has a 13 year old grandson living with her who's....




...brace yourselves...





...homeschooled!

Finally, another Young Man for my Young Man to hang out with...and homeschooled, to boot!

Anyway, I texted The Young Man (yep, TGAPM leaps into the technological age!) and he said it was "totally epic."

Epic?

Like the Iliad?

Can something be partially epic? I dunno.

What ever happened to Bitchin'? Far Out? Groovy? Tubular?

Sigh. I thought it was bad when I could no longer set the clock on the VCR (remember those things? Yes, I still have one...)

I'm going to need a translator. Maybe the college's Communication Disorders department can assist me. After all, "Chump don't want no help, chump don't get no help! Shiiiiit."

Well, even though my native language has mutated into something I'll never again understand, I'm still doing a happy dance. I wonder what a happy dance is called now?