Redskins Frappéd
It’s raining this morning so I’m driving Austen to the bus stop 2 blocks away. Hey, it’s raining hard, leave me alone. Of course she wants to stand in the rain and look cool. Uh, no. I did the same shit, “What? I don’t wanna wear a coat to school. (Insert Mom reason #37) So? I don’t care if it’s 43 degrees out . . . my coat makes me hot.” (Read uncool)
And now here I am :-)
Anyway, while we’re killing time waiting for the bus Austen asks how the Skins are doing overall this preseason. She watched some of the brutal beatdown last week, a loss to Carolina 47-3. I said we were 3-0 before that. I then uttered something like, “man did we get killed”. And that started a list of variable terms on the Redskins beating.
Me, “slaughtered”
Austen, “liquidated”
Erin, “beat”
Me, “eviscerated”
Austen, “smashed”
Erin, “creamed”
Me, “pureed”
Austen, “all isn’t well”
Erin, “whipped”
Me, “stomped”
Austen, “exposed”
Erin, “crushed”
Me, “blasted”
Austen, “emotionally scarred”
Erin, “crying to their mommies”
Me, “sliced and diced”
Austen, “frappéd”
And then the bus came.

I have discovered what may be the best flavored pistachios on the planet.