Tuesday, June 8, 2010


So my brother has a language pretty much all his own. He calls lintballs / fuzzballs "peggies." (Nope, don't know why.)
I remember walking by his room once, watching him pull fuzzballs out of the carpet muttering under his breath, "Goddamn peggies!" (He's OCD- certified & medicated- so peggies earn a special vehemence from him.)

It's really funny to see how we've all come to use his vernacular without a second thought.
I brought a bagful of castoff clothes home to my mom and after I got back to Ithaca at the end of the weekend, she sent me a text message: "Love the green sweater but does it ever stop making peggies?"

What amuses me the most is when I inadvertantly use the term in front of people who aren't familiar with my nutjob family.
I was out for a drink with a friend of mine and said something about how embarrassing it was that I was out in public with "all these peggies on my cardigan."
"Peggies?" she questioned.
I pulled one off and showed it to her. "Peggies."
"Oh. Huh."
A few weeks later I complimented her on the top she was wearing. "Yeah, it's okay. But it makes peggies like mad."
I keep waiting to hear it used on a TV show.

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