I’m Phat

Yes, I could stand to lose ten to twenty pounds. But that's not the kind of fat I'm talking about.

I overheard my oldest daughter talking to her siblings in the kitchen as they were all getting a snack. And she said, "I'm fat." At least that's what I heard. If any of you have seen my oldest daughter you would think she must have some kind of eating disorder or something because she's stick thin. She's about five foot five and weighs just under a hundred pounds. Yeah. Skinny Minny.

Anyway, I came into the kitchen and said, "What?!"

She said, "Not F – A – T, Mom, P – H – A – T. Phat means awesome."

"Oh," was my incredibly intelligent reply.

Apparently, phat is the new cool.

Now all of my children are saying how phat they are. I tell them they are phat, too, 'cause they are. But they don't tell me I'm phat. That's probably because they're afraid I'll think they mean F – A – T and I'll cry and give them cruel punishments. Either that, or they think I'm just an old fuddy duddy mom who's not really very cool. I'm not sure which. Possibly both.

I haven't felt very phat lately, but that doesn't change the fact that we all have good things about us—good things we do, good things we say and talents we have been given so we can give back.

Still, I have to keep reminding myself that I'm phat.

Whereas, I think you all are WAY phat. Thanks to those of you who share your phatness with me!