I love words. All kinds of words. English, French, whatever. And I love learning about their roots and how they came to be a part of our language (and everyone else’s for that matter). But what I love most is making up words. It may seem odd that a language teacher that geeks out over grammar-y things (see? a made up word. and I love it.) would go for something like making up words, but think of it this way. They are custom. And I like custom. It’s kind of like a bespoke garment or a custom piece of furniture. It fits your needs perfectly.
And crapshifting does just that. Many years ago a friend of mine and I were commiserating about how we were constantly cleaning our homes. Nothing was ever in the right spot despite our best efforts to maintain some modicum of order. Then it struck me. I wasn’t actually cleaning, I was shifting junk from one part of the house to another. Sometimes I was even making the piles of our shizzle a bit more orderly, but I wasn’t really cleaning. I was crapshifting.
And so it was born. One of my all-time favorite words. If I knew the process I’d send a petition to the good folks that compile the Oxford English Dictionary to include it in their latest edition. For now I’ll just giggle to myself as I shift my crap from one part of the house to another and delight in the knowledge that the disarray comes from a lived-in, active, full-of-noise-and-life home. And will y’all please remind me of that delight when I start complaining about having to crapshift yet again?
P.S. Don’t tell my mom I said crap.