Sorta (sort of--in informal pronunciation)

I've come to hate that word. It means...what exactly? I find it's terribly overused in my house, and especially over this past weekend. Patrick and I left the kids home while we spent one night at the beach, then headed to Biloxi for a conference for 3 more nights. We left Saturday. By Sunday, we'd heard "sorta" in 2 conversations I hope never to have again.
"I sorta wrecked your Miata." Ok, you're obviously fine because you're calling me and you're calm. What happened, and how bad is it? Then come those 5 other words that are too frequently used in my house, "See, what had happened was...." Those words are NEVER followed by anything good! Pete was on his way to Wendy's in the hopes of talking the manager into hiring him back (he quit several months ago but has since realized his fast-food addiction is one that he must fund on his own). When he came to one of the 5 traffic lights in town, he thought at first to run it as it was yellow. Then he changed his mind and decided to stop. The car behind him, though, wasn't able to stop so suddenly. "Did you call the cops, son?" "Uh..." (and there's yet another word I've come to hate!) Once he stopped stuttering and stammering, his answer was 2-fold. No, because a) there really wasn't much damage that you could see and b) he didn't have his license! ARGH! (sigh) But technology is wonderful; we were able to see pics almost immediately and it really wasn't anything you could tell (thank God!). OK, crisis averted. Do NOT drive anywhere 'til you find your license!
"I sorta broke the computer monitor." I just can't help it; I find myself automatically bracing myself for the worst, usually saying a little prayer before I answer Pete's calls. (sigh) "See what had happened was....Ryan and I were playing around and I threw a coke bottle at him and it sorta hit the monitor and now the monitor's sorta broke." Now in this case, sorta can mean numerous things. It's sorta broke as in glass is scattered everywhere, or it's sorta broke in that it won't turn on, or sorta broke because it still turns on and you can sorta see stuff on the screen. It was the latter, which doesn't make it any better but it made ME feel better knowing there weren't 10 million tiny glass shards scattered around the media room! At least now I know that's a phone call I won't have to worry about: "I had to drive Ryan to the hospital in the Miata without my license because he stepped on glass from the computer monitor and sorta cut his foot open." Oh boy....Luckily for the boys the rest of our time away was uneventful. I'm not sure we'll be leaving them again any time soon, though!