Do you know two phrases that I really hate? Yes … you in the back, son.
Yes, yes I hate those. Fiercely. But they’re not what I had in mind. Yes … you, nice girl with the cashmere sweater tied around her shoulders. Yes?
Sheemeee wawa pooo kameeee hissssssssssssss? Plocky plock plick?
Well, yes. Those two make me see red as well. But no. Good answers, though, both of you. The phrases I detest are these:
- I’m like a kid in a candy shop.
- He’s like a bull in a china shop.
Now, I know that the kid/candy shop thing is supposed to mean that the person saying it was wide-eyed with wonderment and glee, overwhelmed (in a good way) with the bounty being offered. I know it’s supposed to be a positive thing. But what if you’re a kid whose experiences in candy shops aren’t quite the pink ‘n’ purple unicorn and rainbow swirl of sugary sensation that they are for the other kids? What if you’re the kind of kid who cries when puppies approach, who sleeps with a nightlight on even for an afternoon nap, who’s scared of the merry-go-round and has to cower on one of the little pussified benches rather than one of the big scary horses … the kid who was somehow mishandled by a purple dinosaur or a big yellow bird in a candy store during a Grand Opening, and when he cried to his mother about how the Cookie Monster tried to grab his special cookies when no one was looking, well, she reached into the gummi worm bin (the SOUR gummi worms!) with one hand, pried his sticky mouth open with the other, and jammed as many of the gummis into his wailing maw while yelling, “No pasketti for YOU, tonight, little man!!!” What about that kid?
And as far as the bull in the china shop thing, well, that’s just plain stupid. The one time I saw a bull in that kind of store, he was nothing if not downright elegant, right down to his top hat, monocle, and pocket watch. And you didn’t see him stuffing dinner plates down his kid’s throat, either.
Class is dismissed! (Oh, and take that sweater off your shoulders, Missy. That look never works.)