One of the 1,107 things I love best about family is the little stories we create. The inside jokes. The phrases only we understand, and the giggles we share because of them.
In my family we have quite a few. I bet you do as well. Cherish them. They represent memories. They represent love.
When my husband and I were dating, for a time we lived across the country from one another. Every night, at the same time, we met together, to gaze at the same moon. I’d actually forgotten about this memory until I read about it in letters he’d written to me at that time. Now I look at the moon and think of him. Only him.
When our daughter started talking, the phrases just kept coming and coming. They only multiplied as the number in our family increased.
I’m not sure why, but grapes became bidgies. It was just how our daughter pronounced the word. We deemed it cute and it caught on. A family term. Likewise, green beans became gringo bingos. Broccoli trees, circle peas and cauliflowers all were part of dinnertime fodder.
Whenever she heard a sound that was unfamiliar, our daughter asked, “What’s that, beep beep?” The phrase was quickly acclimated into our family vernacular.
Three boys came along after our first born daughter. With them came more Pertler family lingo.
Thankfully, “I love you,” was a common phrase in our daily lives. When my kids responded with “I love you, too.” I’d tell them, “I loved you first.” To which they replied, “I loved you second first.”
Second first became akin to “I love you, too.” One night we were all playing Scrabble and our youngest son tried to play the word, “huddleuppy.”
In between our laughter, we questioned his logic and he referred to his experience playing and watching football.
“You know, in between plays, everyone gets together and does a huddleuppy.”
This became such a legend in our home that other words were born from it. For instance, when we watched TV on the couch, under a blanket at night it became a cuddle-uppy.
Somewhere along the line in family folklore, turkey lunchmeat sandwiches became turkey-pine. For years and years turkey lunchmeat was always turkey-pine. Just recently, I asked the boys which one of them originally came up with the term and they all (as adults) thought that turkey-pine was a legitimate term for lunchmeat.
And so it goes. I often, still, make them turkey-pine sandwiches. Made with love (and turkey) of course.
My daughter, the creator of bidgies, now has babies of her own. And with them has come new family traditions.
My granddaughter was born five years ago and her uncles embraced her immediately - with a nickname: chicken nugget.
They’d say, “You’re just a chicken nugget!” She’d answer, “I’m not a chicken nugget! You’re a chicken nugget!” It’s an exchange that’s exchanged freely between us all. No one openly admits to being a chicken nugget, but it’s a term of endearment we all recognize.
My husband and I went through a long-distance relationship in our early days, and now I find myself in the same place with my grand babies. We don’t look to the moon - yet. That might be too late in the evening for them.
Instead, we visit via FaceTime and throw kisses - around the world - and catch them. I’ve gotten very good in my throwing and they’ve gotten very accurate in their catching. It’s love going around the world.
Just like it went to the moon and back when my husband and I were dating.
Love knows no bounds - not distance, space or time. The same can be said for family, and traditions, experiences and history.
I’m lucky. I’ve experienced so much of all of the above. I hope you do, too. Kisses around the world and all.
Jill Pertler is an award-winning syndicated columnist, published playwright and author. Don’t miss a slice; follow the Slices of Life page on Facebook.
