“That’s really cool,” said Mo, describing one of her cool toddler things.
“Mo, try to find a better word than ‘cool’,” Mom (ever the teacher) suggested.
“Yeah, like . . . fascinating.” I up-sold from a 5¢ word to a $2.50 descriptor, something that would befit a typical 3-year-old.
She tried it out. “That’s really . . . fa-sci-na-ting.”
While my wife and I grinned about that, I backpedaled on the thought.
“Actually, Mo,” I realized. “Just go ahead and say cool.”
Just the other day, someone shared a compliment on my readout on a conference call: “Hunter – eloquent as always with many nice compound words and phrases.”
Some of my coworkers jibe me on how they “can tell I have an English degree” and “feel like they need one themselves to follow me.”
And in chats, I’ve more than once delighted folks when they mention that they didn’t have to Google a word I used.
For those of us on the hyperverbal, overlexical side of The Life Autistic, the journey is fraught with more dictional peril.
So, funny enough, I’ve made strides. Over time, I’ve taken a few mots justes (here, don’t Google it) from the bottom shelf.
Fam. Y’all. Blooda. Thx. Yo. Dude. LOL. IKR? Like. Roll with that.
And to my surprise, people don’t think I’m dumb when I use words like that.
Sometimes they think I’m normal.
Maybe even cool. 😉