Jack wound up proposing to me at a local art museum. He asked me to marry him using sign language, which I had taught him. I took American Sign Language (ASL) in college as my foreign language elective. By the time I met Jack, my knowledge of ASL was beginning to drop by the wayside, but I taught him enough to carry on very limited conversations.
Jack often used his limited knowledge of sign language to make deeply important comments to me such as, “You old cracker.” Or the more simple, but profound, “Fart.”
His mom, after observing one of our signed conversations, pulled Jack aside and coldly informed him that we needed to stop signing to each other.
“Other people think you are talking about them behind their backs,” she huffed.
I guess MIL really wanted to be in on the action of being called an old fart, too.