I Reckon

Brandus returned home triumphantly from school the other day – if by triumphant, you mean ‘tired,’ and i do. And he is discussing how his day went while I attempt to shove more sustenance into the Dark Lord’s gaping maw then he manages to throw on the floor – and when I say attempt, i mean ‘fail.’ And Brandus, the light of my life, my dearest love, says:

“My mentor teacher is driving me crazy! She keeps saying this weird weird phrase, and it makes my teeth itch.” He snarls at this point, then blows a raspberry on Voldemort’s arm. Just so you know what this conversation looked like.
“What does she say? And why is it weird? Kid, please dont dump your milk in your hair.” I reclaim a sippy cup and fish a handful of crumbles from down the child’s shirt. And another from his pants.
“Might could.”
“You might could what?”
“No, that’s what she SAYS! THAT IS NOT REAL GRAMMER.”
“For reals?”

Now, my husband KNOWS that I handled village English in Alaska. Heck, some of it was pretty catchy! But he ALSO remembers that there is one phrase he says, one thing that made me cringe and want to claw at people, the entire 6 years I lived in Colorado. This phrase is a very short, two word thing that involves adding an S to the end of the word ‘real,’ specifically when it follows the word ‘for.’ This phrase makes my ears bleed. And yet, for this instance, this glorious glorious instance where I saw my life open up before me and the heavens sing at knowing just how to drive him insane, I USED IT.

FOR REALS.