What I learned today: If you say camel toe over and over again, it turns into Clamato.

After too much wine at this week's family birthday dinner, we headed over to the tap shoe cupboard, because we find late-night tap dancing the quickest way to bring our blood alcohol level down so we're legal to drive home safely.

Tap shoes on, and:

Mom: Shuffle off to Buffalo! Shuf-fle kick, Shuf-fle kick (jazz hands)! C'mon Becky, you know this one!

Me: (serious kitty cat face, paws up) A prance-eh, A prance-eh, a-shuffle, a-shuffle, poop-y in the box aaannnd kick the lit-ter, kick the lit-ter...

Mom: No, c'mon, stop joking around. Follow me...Shuf-fle ball change, Shuf-fle ball change, Cincinnati flim flam click-et-y clack Yeahhhh...(excited jazz face)

Me: ...

Mom: Slopp-eh joe. Slopp-eh joe. Slopp-eh joe, kick turn!

Me: ...

Mom: C'mon, do it with me, you guys!

Me: Can't.

Mom: Why the heck not? It's fun! Shuffle-toe shuffle-toe, bah-loney, bah-loney, bah-loney...(crazy jazz eyes)

Me: I'm sorry, I...

Mom: What!? What's the problem??

Me: I can't stop staring at your camel toe, mom. I can't even focus on what you're saying.

Mom: My what?

Me: Your camel toe. Are you in pain right now? Because you look like you're about to rip in half.

Mom: I don't understand what you're saying about camels.

Me: Mom. The seam of your pants appears to have violently bisected your vagina. You are strangling your labia. Please, just adjust your junk. Tuck in, or shift the seam over and ride sidesaddle for a bit. I'll even do it for you if you gimme a sec, I think I can find some sort of utensil, like tweezers or something, for discretion.

Mom: So... I'm trying to teach you some tap dance moves, and you're staring at my vagina. Is that right? No! Becky, don't touch me with those salad tongs!

Me: Just...pull...the (tong poke)...seam...out...(tong poke)

Mom: No, you know what? This is your problem. You need to learn to pay attention, even when there are distractions all around you. This is a life lesson.

Me: Really? Because I'm pretty sure it's not. I'm pretty sure I'm never going to be in a situation where someone's all, "Hey, I'm going to teach you how to desalinate ocean water so that you can survive on this desert island, but I'm also going to be choking my pussyflaps the whole time. Try to focus anyway though. Ready? Here we go..."

Mom: Oh, Becky. When you were little, I used to push you on the swings, and the breeze would blow through your soft wispy blonde hair as you smiled up at the sun, giggling and begging me to push you higher and higher. Sometimes when you use a phrase like "choking my pussyflaps" I can't help but long for those simpler times. Sunriiiise, sunset.

Me: Just put them away before some baby orphan hyena twins come along and try to suckle milk out of those things.

Mom: What would be easier is for you to just pull your pants up higher. We can match! It can be our "thing," our "gimmick" for our mother daughter tap routine!

Me: How about you fix your pants and our gimmick can be, "The two fabulous dancing ladies with nothing out of the ordinary happening in their crotches?"

Mom: How bout I keep my camel toe, and you keep your regular toe, and we work it into our "Potato, Po-tah-to" routine?

Me: Perfect! (toe tap, toe tap) "You say po-ta-to, I say po-tah-to..."

Mom: "You say ca-mel-toe, I say ca-mahl-toe..."

FREEZE ON mother-daughter leaning back-to-back, in an agree-to-disagree, whattya-gonna-do? shrug.

I have the camel toe of a much younger woman

The thing I didn't expect about being in my 30's was how young and hip I would still seem, which is odd because when I was 23 and out at a bar on a Saturday night, if I saw a 30 year old woman I'd be like, "Oh my God, who brought the Golden Girl?! Somebody tell the Cryptkeeper to hit the road!!" and then I'd throw maraschino cherries at her head until she cried.

So it was surprising to arrive here in my 30's and discover that I still totally fit in with young people. I don't think anybody even notices that I'm older.

For example, the other day at Lucky Jeans, I was browsing through stacks of gloriously low-waisted skinny jeans named "The Zoe" and "The Lola" when the teenaged salesgirl did that up-down-up look at me that girls do to each other sometimes, and then led me way, way back to the VIP section because clearly she could tell I had an edgier style than her typical customers. She handed me a couple of pairs of special jeans to try on with names like "The Dame Judy" and "The Sassy Widow" or something and I was like, "You sure the elastic waist and velcro fly are fashionable right now?" and she's like, "Oh, totally, I have five pairs at home just like them in my grandma's closet," and I tried them on and was like, "Is my camel toe too obvious?" and she's all, "You mean, is it obvious enough? That's what we kids call vaginal cleavage, ma'am, and you're STACKED. You look super sexy."

Every girl hopes for the day when her particular brand of pretty will come into style, and if the salesgirl is right and cleavag© is what all the kids are flaunting these days, then for me, that day is now. The era of the fat labia has arrived, bitches!! *THUNDERCLAP*

Yeah that's right. Showin' off the goods in my new Dame Judys. Got something to say? Write it on a post-it and stick it twixt my bedenimed labia. Just don't mess with my moneyclip while you're down there. Or the packets of Equal. Oh, and I have a receipt for a pair of Easy Spirit loafers down there too, don't throw that away.

Strutting home from Lucky Jeans in my crisp new Dame Judys, I happen upon a group of young people milling about behind the middle school. Now here's the thing about kids: They can never really get a handle on me. I'm an adult, yes, but I look so young and stylish that they relate to me as if I'm one of their own.

So I flash them the sideways peace sign and kissface that I saw my niece Katie and her friends doing on the MyFace, before she blocked me and started a group called "I bet this used tampon can get more fans than my Aunt Becky." Haha, Katie, FTW!!

"Hey kids, your mural is def on the fresh tip!" I call out. They look up from their cellphones and stare at me. Oh my God, they can't believe an adult can be this cool.

"Hey, um, we didn't draw it!!" one of them calls out.

"Oh, don't be shy," I laugh, "It's lovely, really a lovely mural."

They look confused, but who can blame them, really. It's hard to know how to act around an adult who just "gets" them so completely.

"Man, it's hot out, right? LOL! I sure am snizzweaty! Check out my armpizznits!!"

Am I a grown up or a kid? They can't figure it out! I'm that awesome!

"Hey, I'll tell you what, I sure could use a refreshing squirt in the mouth, like that guy in your mural," I joke, pointing up at the wall.

The kids think I'm hilarious. I'm so funny I don't even realize it sometimes. It's just my nature.

I run with it. "Where'd he find that fire hydrant?? I'm thirsty too!! Get in mah belleh, water!!"

They love me! They're all laughing and texting now, probably typing, "LORFL, woman of indeterminate age can totally hang!!"

"Guess who has two thumbs and wants a big gulp of THAT refreshing stuff??" I yell. *Hands up, raising the roof* "Holllaaaa!!"

I pose beneath the mural, my mouth open and my neck craning to get my imaginary hydration on. They whip out their phone cameras. "Don't EVEN tag me on Faceplace, you guys! LOL! Don't EVEN!" But I know they will, because by that point we're tight, yo.

"Hey, PacMan, save some for me!" I waggle a finger, admonishing the head above me for hogging all the water from the giant fire hydrant. (Hello? PacMan? Nice video game reference! Sometimes I amaze even myself.)

"Awwww, snap, kids. Way to go with the prokaryotic bacterium off to the left. I feel that, I really do." I point up to the left of the fire hydrant.

"First sign of life on earth, yo, paired with the image of the man drinking water creates a clear theme of survival, as unicellular organisms join modern man in the collective struggle for survival. Yo."

One of the kids nudges me. "Hey lady, that's a pussy."

"Pussy? Yeah right. Prokaryotes are hardly pussies. They can live in extreme temperatures and even thrive under radiation!"

(Oh, blush, my teaching credential is showing. Always with the teachable moments, Becky.)

After a round of high fives, an act which apparently has evolved since I was young to look more like one person putting their hand up high and yelling "Up top!" while the other people try to hit her with snotrockets, we say our goodbyes and head out.

Later, checking out Katie's page to see how I'm doing up against the dirty tampon (I love competition!) I see a new group gaining followers on the sidebar. "I bet this random lady's camel toe can get more fans than Ke$ha." Random lady? I won't pretend I'm not flattered. I really made an impression on those kids with my impromptu lesson on cells.

I won't tell you who's winning because I'm humble, but I'll tell you she has two thumbs and is pretty much the Edward James Olmos of Internet camel toe sensations.