That term doesn't mean what you might think. If you’re imagining middle-school aged students making fun of each other, their teachers, or their curricula—you’re wrong!
When a young teenage living in Greater Minneapolis says to her mother, “I’m going mocking with friends,” the mother is probably going to smile. She might ask, “Where,” but she doesn’t have to know more.
Mock is short for hammock, and probably should be spelled ‘mock. Take a look at friends of one of my granddaughters in a park near the home of my son and his family. Doesn’t this look fun? Mentally, just contemplating this scene, I’m settling in for breeze as I snuggle down comfortably—breeze, as in ‘shooting the . . .’ and what happens when gently rocking between trees.
I understand that the thrill of mocking fades once the mocker is obtains a driver’s license. But when you’re fourteen, that’s a long way off and mocking is NOW.
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