On the phone last night my mum told me I was an obstreperous teenager. This is how she talks. I liked the sound of it without knowing what it meant. A mealy sounding word I could tear apart in my teeth and spit out the pieces. Ob. Strep. Er. Ous. I was fairly sure it wasn't a compliment but Oxford was too deeply buried to ask. So I asked her, which I hate to do, but she loves being asked, so it was a gift in both directions because she got to be a teacher and I got to be called obstreperous. Which I think I might still be.
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2 comments:
I hate to tell you, but she was channeling MY mother. Besides, obstreperous is a GOOD thing, even though it sounds rather like a painful throat ailment.
It does, doesn't it? The *strep* part of it leaped out at me too. I feel moderately good about being obstreperous now and my throat doesn't hurt at all.
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