’s up, peeps.

nuttin much wit me just wanted to say hey cus im bored. btw did u c julies new haircut CUUUUTTTE!

k…im done L8R



If you can read that paragraph, you are either a National Security Agency code breaker, a Sanskrit translator or a 12-year-old girl.

When my nearly 13-year-old daughter e-mails or messages her friends, she doesn’t use any language I’ve ever seen.

It’s not that I am unworldly — I can count to at least eight in Spanish and order beignets in French.

It’s just that she refuses to be bound by the centuries-old rules of grammar to which the rest of the country is firmly tied.

It wouldn’t bother me so much if this shortened communication were used only as an electronic form of kid-speak, like pig Latin or Zoom’s Ubbi-Dubbi in my day. But some of those writing habits have crept into Shannon’s schoolwork and daily routines.

Other parents may shrug and say, “Kids will be kids.”

But I’m an English major and editor with control issues. I have to breathe into a paper bag whenever I read Shannon’s school reports or letters to her great-grandmother that begin “hey granma how r u?”

I lay awake at night just itching to sneak into the family room and edit and resend her e-mails, complete with capital letters, periods and correct spelling. I’m afraid I’d get caught, though, when one of her friends asks Shannon, “’S up wit the granny ritin’?”

I know Shannon’s teachers taught her that sentences end with periods. Just the other day, she told me, “I am not eating your Brussels-sprouts-and-tuna surprise. Period.”

I know she knows her capital letters. I remember working with her in kindergarten, tracing S’s over and over again.

According to her report cards, she can spell.

But somehow the rules of English have become uncool, unhip and mizundastud.

Kids no longer rebel against The Establishment or The Man. They have taken on the sanctity of The Correct Grammar.

And they are winning — at least in my house.

Somehow, I find it impossible to lol. I can only cry.

I don’t know where I went wrong. Shannon was always such a good girl.

If this movement isn’t stopped, in a few years, our generation will be forced to live in communes with others who speak our language. We won’t be able to hold jobs, other than in stores selling sensible shoes or Depends. We won’t be able to order fast food or see movies without subtitles.

We will be left watching DLS, the Defunct-Language Speaking network on television.

We will be helpless — unless we go to the other side.

I plan to hold out as long as I can, but if things get bad, don’t hate me if you see my columns start with “Yo, wuts happnin?”

’s all good, k?

L8R