I felt like my mother the other day.  (Hi, Mom!)

After chairing the kids’ school fundraiser for the previous 3 years, I took a minor supporting role and just spearheaded the registration committee.  In addition to table seating arrangements (pain in my a$$!) I was also in charge of the crew that checked-in attendees the night of the event.

Because I was going to be working for a good portion of the event…and because I don’t have a job and therefore don’t have the money to spend on a lousy $75-a-head dinner…my husband and I didn’t actually attend the event this year.  And I gotta say – it’s pretty liberating not going to the annual fundraiser after six years of consistent attendance!

Working registration is in some ways the best of both worlds.  You get to see and be seen and say hi to all the people.  You get to wear something cute, but not too dressy ’cause you’re not actually attending the event.  (I wore a super cute jacket that I got lots of compliments on, along with a black skirt, high-heeled boots and damask mesh stockings.  Dressy, not too dressy and warm enough for a snowy Colorado November evening.)  And you get to play the part of the hostess with the mostess as you hand out drink tickets.  But then you get to leave after your shift and your free pizza-for-the-workers meal without having engaged in any of the frantic spending o’ the green!

And it was as I departed the venue that I felt like my mother.

There’s this long hall you have to walk down in order to get to the parking garage…and this dude came up quickly behind me on the way to his car.  As he passed me he said, “I love your stockings.  They’re totally tight!”

I said thanks and we both went on our way…but the whole time in my head I’m thinking to myself, “Tight?!  Tight.  Did he mean they’re tights??  But he said stockings, so he knows they’re not tights.  What does tight mean??  Tight must mean cool.  I’m HOPING tight means cool!”

How did I get to the point where I don’t know the modern lexicon?!  This is why I felt like my mother.

When I was younger, my mother was always asking my father to explain terms to her (oftentimes during movies and usually for super embarrassing phrases, to which my dad would always reply “I’ll tell you later, dear.”).  As if my dad existed in some alternate universe where he was exposed to all the super cool new phraseology.  I’m not really sure what the actual thinking was on my mom’s part about why my father would know words that she didn’t (’cause he had a job??)…but we’ll see if it works for me:  Dad – what does “tight” mean?