I was sitting at work today when the phone rang. It was Rachel, one of the receptionists at the front desk.
"I have an important message I'm supposed to give you. I have no idea what it means, but apparently you do."
"Okay," I said, wondering what the important message could be.
"I was just setting up a meeting with Matt Heiss and he said to tell you that you married a...I have no idea what this is, but...P-U-D?"
I burst out laughing and said, "Oh, a pud." And I started laughing a little more.
"What's a pud?" asked Rachel.
"I'm not really sure but it's a family insult. It doesn't really mean anything...really. Matt is my husband's uncle, by the way."
"Oh," said Rachel, "Well...sorry if I insulted your husband or anything..."
"Oh, no," I reassured her, "It's fine..."
The best part is that Rachel is in Andrew's English class so she asked him to further clarify the meaning of 'pud' a little later in the day.
Truthfully, I'm not sure anyone in the family knows the meaning or origin of pud. Andrew says it is like "loser" or "punk" but not as "severe." It's a "joking insult."
Well, being the nerd that I am, I did a google search to find the true meaning of pud.
You might be interested to know that we currently live in a PUD (planned urban development). That makes us, by definition, PUDs...or as we prefer to be called Pudites.
Pud can also mean "shameful thing." I won't quote my sources there in order to protect the innocent...
PUD is also associated with bladder cancer (Peri-Urethral Diathermy), which I'm not sure that pregnancy causes, but I'm prone to think that it might with the rate that I have to empty mine.
It is also short for "pudding" in a British dialect, as in, "Would you like some pud'?" or "Oh, boy, this pud' is delish!"
In short, I'm just glad that my husband is a pud and not me. Oh, and Becky probably has a similar taste in men (no offense, Matt...oh, wait...yes, yes, you're a pud).
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