“Hey Dad,” she asked me quizzically.
“You know the times we bake—
We get a pinch of this and that
To stir into our cake;
Is there a kitchen implement
That’s smaller than a cup,
But bigger than a spoon that we
Can use to measure up?
“Of course,” I murmured, panicking.
You see, I’d no idea!
I searched my head and stammered out,
“It’s called a Flamboneer.”
“Hey Dad, you know the holes we have
To buckle up our belts?
What do we call those little things?”
“They call them Belting Telts.”
“The painted lines on highway roads?”
“Oh, Laney-Lines,” I said.
My daughter looked contemplative
And then she cocked her head.
“I have one final question, Dad.”
“What is it, buttercup?”
“What do you call the process where
Your Dad makes new words up?”