My husband and I were sitting in our home office when my eight-year-old bounced in carrying a two-sided poster covered with paper flaps.

“Do you know what an idiom is?” Celeste asked, waggling the big orange sheet of construction paper she’d brought home from school.

“I think I do,” I said. “But I’m not totally sure.”

She seemed pleased to know something I didn’t, and read from her poster. “An idiom is a phrase which means something different than what each of its words taken one by one means.”

“‘That means’,” my husband said. “Not which.”

“Huh?” Celeste looked confused.

“Never mind,” Geoff said.

“I’m not sure I understand that definition,” I said, hoping to get back on track. “How about an example?”

She pointed to one of the flaps. On the front was printed, “Marty got cold feet.”

“What do you think that means?” she asked.

“That Marty needs socks?”

“Nope.” She lifted the flap, “It means Marty didn’t go through with something he was supposed to.”

“Let me try one,” Geoff said.

“OK,” said Celeste. “How about, ‘I’m in a lot of hot water.’”

“You’re taking a bath?”

“No.”

“A Jacuzzi?”

Celeste rolled her eyes. Well, not literally. I mean, they stayed in their sockets, but she waggled them around in a disparaging way.

“It means you’re in trouble,” said Celeste. “How about, ‘I have a bone to pick with you.’”

“There’s no meat left?” said Geoff.

Celeste shook her head. (Her head was still attached to her neck at the time. She wasn’t holding it in her hand and waving it or anything.)

“You’re a real pain in the neck.”

“Is that one of those idioms or are you making an observation?” I asked.

“Both,” said Celeste. “You guys are driving me up the wall.”

“So you’re losing your marbles?”

“You hit that nail on the head,” she said.

“Sounds like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” said Geoff. “With a chip on her shoulder.”

Celeste leaned close to my ear and whispered, “What’s the difference between an idiom and an idiot?”

“Hold your horses,” I said. “There’s no reason be calling names.”

“What horses?” she asked. “And how should I hold them?”

“I might be going out on a limb here,” Geoff said, “But I’m not sure any of us are playing with a full deck.”

“Put a sock in it,” I said.

He slipped off his sock. “I’m not sure why you’d want me to do this. . . “

Celeste giggled. This was right up her alley.

“Isn’t it about time for you to be hitting the hay?” I asked her. “Go on. Shake a leg.”

Which, of course, she did.

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