I remember bicycling alongside of him through Audubon Park enveloped by oak trees, Spanish moss, and thick humidity. We had just finished a delicious meal at his parents’ house; his mom was a wonderful cook. As our wheels whirred along, he asked me what I thought of his mom’s food.
“It was yummy,” I said.
I cannot remember exactly what he said next. All that I can remember is being criticized for using such a puerile word. His father was a Ph.D. and he would be one also a few more years in the future. Such a simplistic word, “yummy,” wasn’t my vocabulary more intelligent than that?
I felt a heavy feeling in my chest. Perhaps I was, stupid.
Sixteen years later, I still use the word, “yummy;” and every time I do, I think of that day in the park. I love saying the word, enunciating the “mm” and drawing out the “eee.” I say it loudly and exuberantly no matter the situation- a management meeting, an interview, a dinner with strangers or with friends. The kids of course love it and everyone else puts up with it. It is part of being quirky me.
We judge people by the language they use, we make assumptions.
It has become a form of rebellion for me. I am saying, I could use another word, pick something out of the GRE vocabulary list, but I will not simply because.
For more scribblings on "yummy" click here.