I’m 44 years old, but I like to think I keep up with the times. I consider myself a cool Mom. I play loud music in the kitchen while I’m cleaning and make my kiddo dance with me. He enjoys this more than he lets on, I’m quite certain. I took my boy to see Star Wars opening weekend. I go to Comic Con. (Trust me, those things are cool). And while my generation is the last to have used telephones with cords and remember television before cable, I have kept up with and embrace modern technology. I use Facebook, I tweet, I have an Instagram account (well I downloaded the app, though I’ve not posted a single thing on it yet), I blog, I have an interest in Pinterest (see what I did there?), I’ve used Periscope, and I certainly try to keep up with the lexicon of my son’s generation. I still write and speak in full sentences, using actual words and not just letters (OMG SMH! LMAO), but I understand most text-speak. Admittedly this is a necessity at times if I want to talk to my son about how his day was. We’ve had full-on conversations using just random letters. It’s like verbal hieroglyphics. It’s bad enough when it’s text messages or email, but these kids speak in abbreviations. What the actual hell?
Anyway, in an attempt to appear cool the other day, I handed my son his snack and announced, “Here you go, bae.”
My son looked up at me in horror.
Jack: Did you just call me bae?
Me: Yes, bae.
Jack: Yeah, don’t do that.
Mom: What? It’s hip, I’m cool. That’s a hip word. (Important note: If you have to say it’s cool, it probably isn’t. Also? Saying “hip” is not cool).
Jack: Do you even know what it means?
Jack: It means baby.
Me: Well, you’re my baby, so that’s appropriate.
Jack: No, baby, like baby, sweetie…like a boyfriend/girlfriend thing.
Me: Um. You’re 9. How do even… You know what? Never mind. So, I shouldn’t use that term with you?
Aaaannnnddd cue the eye roll.
Jack: Not so much. Cool parenting fail, Mom.
The lesson here is to do a quick search on Urban Dictionary before using a new term with my son or his friends. Or, keep reaching for the stars as far looking cool in my son’s eyes and just enjoy the humiliation it brings him when my attempts result in epic fails.