Bring On The “Yoghurts”…I Can Take It.

(All of these photos were taken on the last Photography Drive I went on with my friends on Friday.  They are completely just here for “eye candy” and have nothing to do with this post.)

All of the young cousins on my side of the family, including (and probably especially) my children, have this strange habit of making up weird words for things.

Here are a few examples I can think of right off the top of my head.

All of my children still refer to other people as “humans” when they are talking to you.  “I was on the playground mom and there was a human who was picking his nose!  It was disgusting.”


Thanks to the oldest cousin of the family, Caryn, all of the cousins refer to their private areas (covered or uncovered) as their “privacies.”  They have done this since Caryn was able to talk and we don’t think it’s ever going to change.  “Mom!!!!  Tell him to stop looking at my privacies!!” says one of the younger boys.  Don’t mind the fact that he’s walking around the house in his underroos and you can’t help but see his “privacies.”

Or, one of my favorites…the way that Weston refers to his “you know whats” as his “turds” now.  I kid you not, that’s what the boy calls them.  “Ouch!!  The puppy just landed on my turds!  That hurted!”


One of the most annoying instances though is this new game that Caryn (what an instigator of trouble that girl is!) created called “Yoghurt.”

I had no idea that there was a game called “Yoghurt” until I began to notice that when we’d be driving along, one of my kids would do something like this while they were in the middle of a conversation with me…

“Mom, when I was riding the bus to school today, Wyatt was bugging me….Yoghurt!…and I told him to stop but he wouldn’t…Yoghurt!!…so then I got really mad and told him…YOGHURT!!!!!…to be quiet and then he told me that he wouldn’t…Hey!  I said Yoghurt first!…and then we got to school and I went to my class.”


What the?  Did I pass Crazyville somewhere and go straight into the Twilight Zone?

I did what any self-respecting parent would have done for awhile.  I decided to ignore the weird “yoghurts” that were popping up in conversation because I had absolutely no idea what that was all about and did I really want to know?  That lasted for about two days until I couldn’t stand to hear one more “yoghurt” yelled out and finally asked the kids “Someone needs to explain why you all keep screaming the word ‘yoghurt’ when we are in the car before your mom goes nuts.”

“Oh, it’s a game that Caryn made up,” they replied.

After a few minutes of excited explanations, I finally figured out that this is how you play the game:  while your parents are driving you somewhere, you watch for yellow vehicles.  If you see one, you yell out the word “yoghurt.”  Whoever yells that word first, wins.  They win absolutely nothing, but they all like the fact that they can be called the “winner.”  This all makes perfect sense in their minds because the word “yellow” and the word “yoghurt” both start with the letter “Y.”

Have you all ever noticed just exactly how many yellow vehicles are on the road?  Even excluding busses (which my kids, oh thank you Lord!, all feel are included in this game) there are a lot more yellow cars out there than I ever imagined.  And I get to hear about each and every one of them!


In my mind, that game makes absolute perfect sense if you are insane. And I wasn’t insane until I entered Week 29 of the game of “Yoghurt” that four certain children are obsessed with and haven’t shown any signs that they are going to tire of it anytime soon.

The only silver lining I have found in all of this is that Caryn was the one who created the game…and Caryn and her siblings have been driving their mama (my sister, Janine) crazy with all of their “Yoghurts” as well.


I thought that I had finally accepted the fact that I am probably going to be driving in a vehicle to shouts of “Yoghurt!!!” for the
rest of my life. I had accepted it.  Come to terms with it.  Right up until I overheard this conversation the other day…

“Maybe we should make up a game for white cars!  We could say ‘Whale!’ or ‘Whipped Cream’ or ‘Whisper’ or…”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” the mom yelled from the front seat.  “One Yoghurt game at a time is all I can handle.  If you start Whaling on me you have to give up the Yoghurts…no ifs, ands or buts about it.”

At which point I realized that I am completely insane.  Would any normal person who was sitting in my van at that moment even have a clue as to what I was talking about?

Welcome to The Arthur Clan…also known as The Clan of Crazies.

That’s us!