I am running. Running to catch up to a teenage boy who continues to change the rules on a daily basis. He generally travels with a pack. They go from house to house,  eating through cupboards, texting on iPods and posting on Facebook.

Last week, I bought some pricey energy bars reserved for my pre-workouts. These lasted 1 day in my house.  I also spent an hour driving around the neighbourhood looking for my son. He had called to tell me he was at one house and when I got there, I was told ‘he just left to go over to so and so’s house’. At so and so’s house, I was told ‘he left about 10 minutes to go over to another so and so’s house’. About four houses later, I found him back at ours, feet up watching TV and asking “what’s for dinner?” Seriously? Seriously.

To add to the mix, I have been trying to decipher all the Facebook and texting ‘codes’ he and his pack use. As if this is going to help keep up with the madness. For example, do you know what TBH stands for? Probably you do but humour me. It means ‘to be honest’.  SMH? It means ‘shaking my head’.  I can’t believe I’m going to say this but back in my day (yep, there it is. I’m officially OLD. You know what that stands for? old. That’s what.) we used, BYOB (bring your own beer) and RSVP (well, we all know that one).  The one I am most excited to tell you about is YOLO. I saw this one the other day and asked my son what it meant. In return I got the mandatory eye roll followed by mocking:

HIM:  “you have no idea?”

ME: “well I wouldn’t ask if I knew.”

HIM: “duh” followed by a stare meant to emphasize how ridiculous my question is.

Now, when I am met with such a response (this is not the first time), I generally like to throw out random bits of information I in fact do know; usually a big word or something. It’s my way of asserting my motherly authority. It’s really just smoke and mirrors people, smoke. and. mirrors.

ME: “I bet you don’t know what ‘recidivism’ means.”

This tactic does NOT work; rather it elicits an eye roll,  sigh and then….the answer. Condescendingly.

HIM: “YOLO means You Only Live Once. Like, if you were going skydiving and you were really scared and your were like, so scared you were going to crap your pants, you’d be all like ‘I’m gonna do it ’cause YOLO.”

ME: “OOOHHH. I get it. So if I was like (I throw that in there to relate to him. It is a pet peeve of mine when teens use the word ‘like’ every 5  seconds but I do it as if that somehow will hide the fact that I’m a grown woman and that saying it will mask this fact. How stealth is that?) if I jump on the trampoline even though I’ll probably wet my pants, I’d be like ‘oh well, YOLO?

HIM: blank stare. “um, like…OK” Followed by shoulder shrug.

ME: “Do you know what RMC YOLO means?”

HIM: “Um, no”

ME: “Well, the RMC stands for ‘Rub My Corns’ YOLO!”

HIM: Rendered speechless followed by a good laugh.

Coming home from work today, I was in the elevator with a few people. One of them quipped that he was fighting the urge to push all the floor buttons. We all laughed and a woman commented ‘YOLO’. The man looked at her quizzically and I was happy to respond with the answer, as if I’d known all along what it was. I mean, c’mon who doesn’t? Like, duh.

Friends, I am off to Whistler for some skiing this weekend. I haven’t skied in over 10 years. It will hurt but, YOLO!

Have a great weekend 🙂


2 thoughts on “YOLO

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