Tonight, Mom and I were watching a show on VH1 (I think it was The Most Awesomely Hot Sexy Celebrity Bad Songs of March, 1984) and a commercial for The Flavor of Love came on. For those blissfully not in the know, it's The Bachelor. Except with scads of ridiculously hot women competing for the affections of Flava Flav. I assume there's also a monetary incentive, otherwise you'd just have one episode where a bunch of women claw at each other to get through doors and lower-level windows. Naturally, this cultural phenomenon led to some discussion.
"I can't believe anyone would compete for Flava Flav."
"Is that a person?"
"Yeah, that was the guy with the clock around his neck and the Viking helmet and the gold grill."
She laughed, then paused, apparently trying to figure out the wording to the most hilarious thing I've ever heard. "When you say 'grill,' do you mean like the front of a car, or a grill you'd cook meat on?"
I had no response but to laugh so hard I chirped for several minutes.
"What? What did I say? You did say 'grill,' didn't you?"
More chirping. Faster, harder chirping. I suffered hypoxia.
"Yes... I said... 'grill.' It means... your MOUTH. Your TEETH."
It was her turn to chirp. Mom is a good sport.
"Well, you were talking about a Viking helmet and a clock around his neck... he'd probably wear a gold front end to a Mercury if he had the chance."
And the thing is... she's right.