Man you’d think I just fell right off the face of the earth. Some of you might actually wish that to happen. Well, fooey on you people, I say! Fooey!

I made up a new word the other night. I took the girls out shopping and we passed a local news station on the way to the store. I looked over and saw they were setting up the newscast right out front with the camera and the lights and I hollered “FRONNNNK!” and told the girls I should have fronked the horn at them, and we would have been on the news. Or at least our fronk would have been on the news. Chickeymonkey swiftly informed me that “Fronk is not a word.” Uh. Why not? Didn’t I just say it? Didn’t I define it, too? Why can’t fronk be a word? And most importantly,

She was silent in the back seat and had no answer to my questions. Catybug was on my side. Fronk sounds cool. (Go ahead, try it – like a goose sounding honk, it’s called a Fronk. Because I said so.) Chickeymonkey was pretty upset at that point, and started yelling at Catybug that IT IS NOT A WORD. To which I, the mom, because I am mature and growing my kids up right, replied:

And of course you know what her reply was.

As it turns out, she was just more irritated with Catybug for getting on board so much faster and really having fun with it. She told me in secret that it’s okay if I say it, it’s just NOT okay when Catybug does. Well, that’s no fun, people. I think EVERYONE should be fronkity-fronking whenever they feel like it. So go ahead and fronk if you wanna, you have my full permission and blessing. Chickeymonkey will get over it.

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