If the shoe fits, then go right ahead and wear it
Are We There Yet?
LORI CLINCH
As I sat in the kitchen chair the other night, I said in reference to the article that I was reading, "Well, if that isn't straight from the horse's mouth."

Although I was speaking to no one in particular, when I looked up at my family, I was met with a variety of looks. Some of the children stared at me with pity, some with bewilderment and the youngest just looked perplexed.

"Straight from the horse's mouth?" my young Huey asked with the implication that he couldn't believe anyone would use such commentary.

"That's nothing," said his brother Lawrence. "Last week when I asked her for some cash. she told me that I was trying to get blood out of a turnip."

"Blood out of a turnip?" asked Little Charlie. "What the heck did she mean by that?"

"Who knows?" responded Huey. "She's always saying weird stuff like that."

I felt as if I was sitting in front of a panel of psychologists who had already come to the conclusion that I was one brick short of a load. In fact, it was painfully obvious that I was getting the short end of the stick.

"For your information," I said inmy defense, "getting blood out of a turnip means trying to get a substance out of something that doesn't have it."

"But you might as well have said, 'Like trying to get ketchup out of a shoe,' " responded the eldest with all of the wisdom that his 19 years will allow.

"Yeah," agreed Huey as they picked my commonly used phrase apart. "Who has ever heard of getting blood out of a turnip?"

I could see that my knowledge was falling on deaf ears, so I threw in the towel and went back to my newspaper. And who could blame me? After all, if their disdain brought me a moment of peace, then who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Later in the week when one of the kids was chastising another for something that they all do, I said, "Well, if that isn't like the pot calling the kettle black."

The two bickering children stopped dead in their tracks and looked at me for a moment before they turned to look at each other and then back at me.

"Did you hear what she just said?" the older one asked. Then together they spun on their heels, walked down the hall and reported to their siblings, "Hey, you'll never guess what Mom said now!"

They all gathered 'round to express their amusement once more at what the family has come to call "the old gal's weird phrases."

"Everyone uses these expressions," I said in my defense

"Really," commented one of the kids. "Are you truly trying to convince us that someone besides you tells people not to count their chickens before they're hatched?"

"Well yes," I replied, "everyone knows what that means."

"I for one think that unless I was being raised in a barn, I'd be clueless," replied the eldest in his all-knowing tone.

"It's not as if I'm older than the hills," I said to the kids without shame. "After all, a leopard cannot alter its spots, so why try to un-ring a bell?"

Once again I was met with wide eyes and blank stares. I couldn't help but smile to myself as I said, "There's no logic in changing horses mid-stream, right boys? After all, once the cat's out of the bag, you might as well put your money where your mouth is, for there's no sense in beating a dead horse."

"I think she's lost it," young Huey said as he walked away.

"Yeah," replied Little Charlie as he shook his head and fell in line. "Where does she get that stuff?"

I decided to hold my head up high and use my phrases even if they show my age. After all, if colorful expressions aren't the kids' cup of tea, it's not as if I'm walking around with egg on my face. And if I'm enjoying colorful commentary while teaching them catchy phrases, then I'm killing two birds with one stone.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and I think you'd all agree that any mother worth her salt has been known to put her foot into her mouth from time to time.

"You'll use phrases too," I told the oldest one day.

"Whatever floats your boat, Mom," he replied with a shake of the head. I wanted to tell himthat one day his own kids would roll their eyes at that very phrase.

And I would have, too - but I'm not one to toot my own horn.

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch. com.