It started with a number. Two, actually. Six and seven. My nieces said it like a chant, a reflex, a call and response that I could not decode. “Six seven,” they’d say, palms up, moving their hands in a small rhythmic gesture that looked part prayer, part shrug. And everyone around them laughed.

When I asked what it meant, they said it didn’t mean anything. Which, of course, meant everything.

On my podcast, Fifty Words for Snow, my co-host Emily and I usually explore words from other languages— Japanese, Icelandic, Yiddish—words that open a window into how other cultures think. But in one episode, we decided to turn our microphones toward the next generation. We invited my nieces, Addie and Ava, along with Emily’s teenage son, Ollie, to teach us the latest slang.

They talked about brain rot, touch grass, and bombastic side eye. But the one that stayed with me was 6-7. It wasn’t even a........

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