As an at-home-dad for more than a decade, I pride myself on the ability to read and understand ancient languages. I am the Rosetta Stone of baby talk. Toddler got a problem but has the vocabulary lower than the dog? I’m your guy. A teenager that has invented a new system of language based on memes and TikTok? I can write the dictionary and teach it at the next convention.
But the Post-it Notes my wife leaves around the house? Well, not all codes were meant to be broken.
The Post-it Notes are based on a language I can only assume take its inspiration from fairy dust and abstract art. I run across these colorful cryptic message many times throughout the day. Sometimes I can make progress, such as “Surely, that is a word that starts with an X!” Then I realize that it’s not an X, but a sign invented for deaf musical geniuses … and how can I not understand that?
Let’s take the above Post-it Note as a typical example. I found out many years later that this was meant to be a grocery list and not a communication from a new alien civilization asking me for help. Using my highly developed reading and writing skills, I determined that the first word on the note is “juice.” We are off to a good start.
The second word, now that is a P followed by butterfly wings. I consulted my Egyptian Hieroglyphics urban dictionary. I concluded that I was supposed to let the pee fly at the grocery store. Then I realized that if I squinted, it’s could be a B. Which would be PB, shorthand for “peanut butter and jelly,” two separate items that aren’t one product. I deduced that my wife wanted a sandwich and then she would pee in an airplane. This is going smoothly, no?
After I got the P and B, she wants “banditos.” An interesting request as I would have to travel all the way back to 1865 Mexico, but I could probably do that. I’ll get the alien civilization to help.
After that, “lunch meet” is up, which again, a bit weird. But I love meeting lunch, so I’ll do that after the banditos. We’ll catch up on the kids and family.
So far, I find that this is going well and much easier than one would expect given my wife’s inability to write on Post-it Notes in any way that a normal person could understand. Once she left me a note to “Make sure you flap the flog” which is not the sexual reference/kink talk I was expecting. Instead, it meant fix the toilet. She’s also terrible at sexting.
After lunch meet is where I get stuck. We need “dimes by Sunday.” Clear as day, that is what the Post-it Note says. I don’t know what is going on during Sunday, but apparently, this is very important to get at the grocery store.
Or — hold-up — what if I’m reading it wrong?
It might say “Dinos on Sunday.” That’s a bit of an emergency because I’m not planning on making enough tacos Sunday night to feed a group of prehistoric creatures. Maybe that’s why we need the dimes? That makes sense.
Then the list tells me to get the “Ranch at the Coffee,” but I think that is a harmless typo. What she means is to go to the ranch and get coffee. Like, the cowboy kind that’s served as dark as night and with a little trail dust on the rim. Everyone takes it differently and whatever she needs to make it through the day, I’m here for her. And I’ll be sure to pick up the “reamer” that is next on her list. I can only assume this is cowboy lingo for sugar.
I’m pretty sure that the next item on this Shakespearean manuscript is “mouse traps,” but I’m making the allowance that it could also be “moose traps.” You can never be too careful with moose as they eat all your cheese, the greedy bastards.
I’m having a problem with the next two. It’s either “Twit Fly stuff” or “Twit Fly Traps Stuff.? Writing in straight lines is sometimes a challenge for her. And I’m not sure what a “Swahes” is either. Using my brain powers again I can make two conclusions.
Option 1: Twits are a type of space pirate flying around our galaxy, and we need to trap them before they swish their hips in an inappropriate manner. I believe Elvis was a Twit Pirate when he was starting out.
Option 2: I have a hell of an infestation in my house with the mouse, the moose, the twits, and the fruit flies, and if I’m not careful, they too will soon read my wife’s Post-it Notes and then wonder why they get yelled at when they return from the store with only Flying Pee and Dimes.