Back in college, when Hubby and I were just dating, he gave me a T-shirt from a band we both loved. He had even SEEN Cheap Trick, in concert. So of course I loved the shirt. It was Cheap Trick! and it was His. I came home from college one weekend and wore it.
My father went totally ballistic.
No daughter of his was going to wear a shirt that called her a Cheap Trick.
Well, um, I tried to explain to Dad that it was a BAND, and that it didn't mean anything, and that no one who read it would think anything other than "Cool shirt! I Want You To Want Me is great!" He would have nothing of it. Future-Hubby got the shirt back.
Ok, fast-forward 21 years. I am now the mother of a 16 year old who calls all good things....
"Pimpin' cheeseburger, Mom! You rock!"
Saturday, while he enjoyed said cheeseburger, he, um, tried to explain to me that it didn't mean anything, and that no one who heard him would think anything other than "Great cheeseburger!"
I would have nothing of it. In MY house, cheeseburgers are "delicious". Not "pimpin'".
But, boy, do I feel old.