Brown About Town with Suma Iyer
I have come to the conclusion that the English language is for perverts.
There are three common phrases with which I take particular issue. They are:
- “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
- “I’ll have to love you and leave you!”
- “A good sort.”
“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
I’m sure I am not the only person who thinks that this phrase makes it sound like we are all kissing our mothers on the mouth. We most certainly are not. It is a part of our National Covenant that we do not kiss our mothers in this way.
I’m not kissing my mother on the mouth, for what it’s worth. I kiss my mother on the cheek, on the head, and once, awkwardly, on her shoulder when she got up out of her chair faster than I expected.
I witnessed an acquaintance kiss his mother on the mouth recently. However, he is European. Europeans may do such things because they are less frightened of themselves. In Europe, they have public baths with champagne instead of water, and one is encouraged to bring crudites and bathe nude. We cannot repress their mother kissing ways any more than we can stop them from covering themselves in mascarpone cheese instead of sunscreen.
But in this country, we are very afraid. I feel like post-breastfeeding, we have all agreed that any contact between people’s mouths and the mothers that brought said mouths into the world should be cursory at best.
Mums have been through enough.
The thing is, odds are good that many of us have kissed someone’s mother on the mouth. If you have kids, but you didn’t birth them – there’s a good chance there was some kissing involved.
Probably.
“I’ll have to love you and leave you”
What does “love” mean in this context?
It is far from sure, but it certainly sounds like an exchange of fluids is involved before the speaker departs. We are closely related to bonobos, after all, for whom sexual interactions are used to cement social relationships, diffuse tension, and broker deals.
So it’s not inconceivable.
Perhaps there was a point in history where intercourse, or at least light frottage, was commonplace in process of saying goodbye.
I imagine that this would have been difficult in eras with lots of undergarments and elaborate clothing to take off and put back on again, though.
And it is here where I believe the problem lies.
I believe this phrase lost its connection to the original ritual when a group of people were undressing to “love” said person before they departed. And then came the many clasps, the burdensome buckles, not to mention unlacing a corset isn’t exactly easy, and…
Well, they all agreed to shake hands instead.
What’s strange is that I usually hear older people use this idiom. Perhaps they heard tales of when it was accompanied by the physical ritual.
There really is so much we can learn from our elders.
“A good sort”
Okay, so when did this phrase become about someone being hot? Because I never, ever got that memo.
I had been using it FOR YEARS, thinking that it just referred to someone who was a good person [shit, it doesn’t!? I, errrr… I need to make some calls… – BOSSMAN SKO].
It’s a bit like referring to someone being “fit” not actually being about their physical health.
At least that phrase had a well-known song— Fit But You Know It by The Streets that clarified its meaning for anyone in doubt. Where’s the song about being “a good sort”? If there was, it might have saved me years of sounding like I was keen on lots of wildly inappropriate people. It’s a public service at this point.
I have literally used that descriptor for all sorts of folk – baristas (SO many baristas), the man down the hall who collects my mail, friend’s partners, to name a few. Nobody pulled me up on it.
Nobody.
It was only earlier this year when I was talking to my boss about a colleague that an eyebrow was raised and I was informed of its meaning.
So, if you’re reading this, Catherine – I’m so sorry. I do really like your hair that colour, but I wasn’t trying to be a creep. Thank you for not reporting me to HR.
There you have it. Proof if proof be needed that humans and their language is unadulterated filth. I could go on, but I’ve run out of space. So I will have to love you and leave you.
Suma Iyer is a Canberra comic who performs across Australia. To keep up to date with Suma, head to @sumaiyercomedy on Instagram.