Mommy: Stay or don’t stay, I don’t give a hidey ho!
Daddy: What’s a hidey ho?
Mommy: A flying fig!
Daddy: I’m not sure you want to use that expression now that we’re in the rap era. You can’t say “ho” to these two [points to me and Unmarried Brother].
Me: [Unmarried Brother] is very ho-focused, Mom.
Unmarried Brother: I do like hoes.
Mommy: Well what do you expect me to say then?
Daddy and Me [in unison]: Flying Fig!