Sky Blue Pink

Speaking of language (okay, an admittedly weak segue from the last post—not that there needs to be one), I sometimes find myself looking up new words that are increasingly being tossed around in conversation or in print. “Gaslighting” and “woke” are two examples that I thought I understood the meaning of but wanted to be sure. (Incidentally, gaslighting was chosen as Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Year for 2022.) Turns out, I was right about one but wrong about the other. Glad I checked.

And then there are those words or expressions that become part of what I think of as our family language. “Sky blue pink” is something my husband once said, jokingly, and it stayed with me. In fact, a couple of days ago when we returned from a trip to the store around dusk, and I hopped out to snap this photo, that’s exactly what I said: “Wook! Sky blue pink!” “Wook” (a toddler grandson’s mispronunciation of “look”) has also been adopted by us.

My son is good about writing down some of things his daughter (now six) says. She still substitutes an “eff” sound for “th”, so words like “think” come out “fink.” I’m glad her parents haven’t pushed to correct this. It sounds so cute and there’s plenty of time for that later. Recently, when I took her to a swimming lesson, I waited outside a changing room for her to put her bathing suit on. She’s pretty independent but will ask for help if she needs it. As I was standing by, the door opened a crack and she shoved her little arm out with her rash guard (what happened to “swim shirt”?) in her hand. “Un-insideout this please,” she said, knowing I’d be right there.

Such economy of language out of the mouths of babes and so much more fun than words like “permacrisis” which apparently means “an extended period of instability and insecurity.”