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I Texted My Mom Exclusively in Gen Z Slang for a Week and She Called a Family Meeting

By Lustich Lists & Pop Culture
I Texted My Mom Exclusively in Gen Z Slang for a Week and She Called a Family Meeting

Science has given us many great gifts: penicillin, the internet, air conditioning in July. But perhaps its most important contribution is the ability to run completely unnecessary social experiments on our own families from the safety of our couches. This week, we did exactly that.

The mission: text our parents using nothing but certified Gen Z slang — no cap, bussin, it's giving, slay, understood the assignment, rizz, mid, caught in 4K, delulu, and more — and document their responses in real time. We ranked the chaos on a scale from "Surprisingly Fluent" all the way down to "Has Quietly Googled 'Signs Your Child Is Having a Breakdown.'"

Buckle up. It got weird.

The Slang Arsenal (A Quick Glossary for the Boomers Who Stumbled In Here)

Before we get into the carnage, here's your crash course:

Armed and dangerous. Let's go.

Round 1: The Opener — Testing the Waters

We started soft. A simple check-in text, lightly seasoned with slang to gauge the initial temperature.

The text sent: "Hey Mom, dinner last night was absolutely bussin no cap. You really understood the assignment 🔥"

Mom's response: "Thank you sweetie. Are you feeling okay? You seem different. Did you sleep enough?"

Classic. The concern was immediate. She didn't ask what "bussin" meant. She didn't Google it. She went straight to maternal threat assessment mode. Zero to "are you hydrated" in under 45 seconds. Respect, honestly.

Rating: Mildly Alarmed But Holding It Together

Round 2: Dad Enters the Chat

Dads are a different beast. Where moms default to concern, dads tend to either completely ignore the weird parts of a text or — dangerously — attempt to engage.

The text sent: "Dad I saw your golf score from Saturday. Mid. No cap. But your rizz on the course? Unmatched actually."

Dad's response: "What is a rizz. Is that a club brand. I have a Callaway driver if that helps."

Beautiful. A perfect specimen. He did not acknowledge "mid" at all, presumably because his brain filed it under "probably a typo." But "rizz" broke him. He defaulted to the only logical conclusion available to a 61-year-old man: it must be golf equipment.

Rating: Completely Lost But Maintaining Dignity

Round 3: Escalation — The 'It's Giving' Incident

This is where things started to unravel.

The text sent: "Mom your new kitchen curtains are giving cottagecore realness and honestly? You ate. You slayed. You did NOT come to play."

Mom's response: "...I got them at Bed Bath & Beyond. Or I guess it's Beyond now. Are you on something."

The beyond-former-Bed-Bath-&-Beyond callback was genuinely impressive. She didn't answer the slang. She just pivoted to retail facts and then, without skipping a beat, questioned our sobriety. Efficient. Devastating. This woman raised us.

Rating: Confused But Suspicious

Round 4: The Delulu Detonation

Some words hit different. "Delulu" is one of them.

The text sent: "I'm thinking about applying for that job in Austin. Delulu is the solulu tbh."

Dad's response: "What is a solulu. Call me. Actually call me right now. Mom is worried."

The family meeting had officially been called. "Delulu is the solulu" — a phrase meaning that being delusionally optimistic is sometimes the only path forward — had been interpreted as possible evidence of a crisis requiring a phone call and parental intervention. We called. We explained. He said, "That's not a real saying" and hung up.

Rating: Actively Concerned, Convening Emergency Response

Round 5: When They Try to Clap Back

Here's where the experiment took an unexpected and frankly beautiful turn. Some parents, rather than asking questions, decided to attempt the slang themselves. This is the purest form of chaos the experiment produced.

The text sent: "Aunt Carol's potato salad at the cookout was mid and you know it."

Mom's response: "I cannot believe you said that. That is RUDE. Also your cousin Jake told me 'mid' means average. Well I think YOU are mid right now. No capping."

No. Capping.

She added the "-ping." She conjugated it. She treated it like a verb. This is either the greatest thing that has ever happened or a sign that language itself is collapsing. Possibly both. We screenshotted it immediately and it is now framed above our desk.

Rating: Surprisingly Fluent (Wrong, But Fluent)

The Final Rankings

After a full week of documented linguistic warfare, here's how our parents sorted out:

🥇 Surprisingly Fluent: Mom using "no capping" as a verb. Incorrect, iconic, never to be forgotten.

🥈 Oddly Chill About It: Dad's younger sister (technically an aunt but Gen X enough to know what "mid" meant and simply replied "fair").

🥉 Confused But Engaged: Mom during the curtain incident — wrong answers, but she was trying.

😬 Completely Lost, Maintaining Dignity: Dad and the rizz/golf club situation.

😰 Mildly Alarmed But Holding Together: Initial bussin response. Concern present, composure intact.

🚨 Actively Concerned, Convening Emergency Response: Dad after "delulu is the solulu." A phone call was made. A family was briefly united in confusion.

What We Learned

A few things became very clear over the course of this experiment. First, parents don't Google slang — they context-clue their way through it and arrive at completely wrong but deeply earnest conclusions. Second, the moment you introduce a word that sounds even vaguely medical (delulu, rizz, bussin), someone is getting a phone call. And third, when parents do attempt slang, they commit to it with a sincerity that is both heartwarming and linguistically catastrophic.

Would we do it again? Absolutely no cap.

Would our parents want us to? Mid at best.

But honestly? They ate. They just didn't know it.