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The incredible story of baby Eva Grace: the superhero who never lived.

My wife Keri and I went in for the standard 19-week anatomy scan of our second child. As a parent, you think that appointment is all about finding out boy or girl, but it’s about a whole lot more.

In our case, our daughter was diagnosed with a rare birth defect called anencephaly — some 3 in 10,000 pregnancies rare. The phrase our doctor used in explaining it was "incompatible with life," which looks as terrible in words as it sounds. The child fails to develop the frontal lobe of the brain or the top of their skull. The chance of survival is 0%. We sat in a doctor’s office, five months before our daughter was to be born, knowing she would die.

The options weren’t great. There was (a) inducing early, which in effect was terminating the pregnancy or (b) continuing the pregnancy to full term.


Within a minute or so of finding out, Keri asked if we could donate the baby’s organs if we went to full term. It was on her heart and mind, but we left the doctor and still spent the next 48 hours deciding what we were going to do. It was excruciating. We considered terminating. We had to. Were we capable of taking on the weight of the 20 weeks ahead? In our minds, we were intentionally taking on the loss of a child, rather than the loss of a pregnancy. And, yes, there is a difference.

We decided to continue, and we chose the name Eva for our girl, which means "giver of life."

The mission was simple: get Eva to full term, welcome her into this world to die, and let her give the gift of life to some other hurting family.

It was a practical approach, with an objective for an already settled ending point. We met with an organ procurement organization called LifeShare of Oklahoma and found out we’d be the eighth family in the state to donate the organs of an infant.

There wasn’t much of a precedent or process in place because, until only recently, most parents of anencephalic babies didn’t know it was an option. There’s this weird gray area involved because, even without a brain, these babies can’t be declared brain dead. Her heart would need to stop beating, leaving a finite window of, let’s call it, "opportunity," to recover her kidneys, liver, and maybe pancreas and heart valves. We asked about other things, like her eyes or corneas, but LifeShare told us they’d never done that before, even with an adult.

All photos by Mitzi Aylor/Alyor Photography. Used with the permission of Royce Young.

Part of the difficulty of the decision to carry on was the physical pregnancy and the mental burden of carrying a baby for 20 more weeks knowing she would die. The kicks and punches to Keri’s bladder served as a constant reminder of what was inside. (Yes, Eva kicked like any other baby; her brainstem was complete, which is what controls basic motor functions. I know, we had a hard time wrapping our minds around it too.) She feared people asking what she was having or the due date or if the nursery was ready.

What we unexpectedly found, though, was joy in the pregnancy. We happily talked about our sweet Eva, and day by day, our love for her grew. We got excited to be her parents.

I think a big part of that was connected to the decision we made to continue on, which was empowering. She had a name, an identity, and a purpose. The idea of choice in pregnancy is a complicated one, and one I kind of want to avoid here. Wherever you fall, just know, we were empowered by our decision, our responsibility to be Eva’s mom and dad for as long as we could. We went from seeing the pregnancy as a vehicle to help others to looking forward to holding her, kissing her, telling her about her brother, and being her parents.

The time we’d have was completely unknown, with it ranging anywhere from five seconds to five minutes to five hours to, in some more optimistic estimates, five days.

We decided to have a planned C-section. We wanted to maximize our chances of seeing Eva alive and be able to control as many variables as possible.

There wouldn’t be any surprise labor in the middle of the night. We could have our first child Harrison there to meet his sister and grandparents ready to hold their granddaughter even if she was only alive for an hour or so. We wanted to do what was best for our girl. That’s what parents do.

As the date neared, the meetings and appointments cranked up. We had what everyone called the "Big Meeting," a gathering at Baptist Hospital of about 30 people that included multiple people from LifeShare, NICU nurses and doctors, neonatologists, and other "Very Important Hospital People." We were the first infant organ donor ever at Baptist, and they were developing a protocol on the fly. There were plans and contingency plans and contingency plans for the contingency plans.

The process was going to be delicate, and to be frank, it seemed increasingly unlikely that it would work. There were a lot of things that were going to need to go just right, even with the intricate plans that were being put in place. It was made clear to us over and over and over again how if Eva’s kidneys or liver didn’t go directly for transplant, they would go to research, and infant organ research is incredibly valuable.

But I wanted a tangible outcome. I wanted to be able to meet and hug and shake the hand of the person my daughter saved.

I couldn’t dream about what my daughter would grow up to be, so I fantasized about the difference she could make.

What if the person who got her kidneys became president? What if her liver went to a little boy and he goes on to win the Heisman Trophy? I was writing the "30 for 30" script in my mind every night as I went to sleep. It was something to hold onto; it was the kind of hope I wrapped up with both arms. Research was nothing more than a fail-safe to me, a Plan B that I didn’t want any part of.

There were some concerns from the hospital's ethics team about Eva and our plans. As I explained to them — and to anyone else out there who has this idea that we grew a daughter just for her organs — Eva was a terminal child. And as her parents, we elected to make her an organ donor. That’s it. She would be born, live an indefinite amount of time, and then we were choosing to donate her organs.

Then suddenly, we were in the two-week window. In two weeks, we’d be prepping to welcome our baby girl into the world and preparing to say goodbye to her.

I planned on sitting down that day to write Eva a letter, like I did before Harrison was born to give him on his 18th birthday. She’d never read it, but I was going to read it to her. Keri didn’t feel Eva move much that morning, but we both brushed it off and went to lunch. We came home, put Harrison down for a nap, and Keri sat down in her favorite spot and prodded Eva to move. She wouldn’t.

We started to worry. Keri got up, walked around, drank cold water, ate some sugary stuff. She sat back down and waited. Maybe that was something? We decided to go to the hospital. We held on to hope that we were just being overly anxious and didn’t take any bags.

We arrived, and a nurse looked for a heartbeat on the doppler: nothing. Not unusual; it was sometimes hard to find because of the extra fluid. They brought in a bedside ultrasound machine and looked. It seemed that maybe there was a flicker of cardiac activity. They told us to get ready to rush in for a C-section.

I just remember repeating, "I’m not ready I’m not ready I’m not ready I’m not ready." I was supposed to have two more weeks. What about the plan? What about Harrison? What about Eva’s aunts and uncles and grandparents? What if they couldn’t make it in time? What about her letter?

They brought in a better ultrasound machine. Keri and I had seen enough ultrasounds to immediately know: There was no heartbeat. Eva was gone before we ever got to meet her. The brain controls steady heart functions, and Eva’s finally gave out.

Keri rolled onto her side and put both hands over her face and let out one of those raw, visceral sobbing bursts. I stood silently shaking my head.

We had tried to do everything right, tried to think of others, tried to take every possible step to make this work, and it didn’t. No organ donation. Not even for research, our fail-safe. We felt cheated.

The word I still have circling in my head is disappointment. That doesn’t really do it justice because it’s profound disappointment. The kind of disappointment that will sneak up on me at different times, like when I’m mowing the yard or rocking Harrison or driving to a game.

Since there was no reason to control variables anymore, the doctors induced Keri into labor. The rest of Sunday and into Monday morning were the darkest, most painful hours of our lives. We had previously come to terms with the outcome and had almost found a joy in the purpose of our daughter’s life. We had looked forward to meeting her and loving her. We knew we’d hurt from her loss, but there was hope in the difference she was making. We had heard from recipients of organ donation that were so encouraging and uplifting.

But the deal got altered. It felt like we were letting everyone down. (I know how ridiculous that sounds.) I felt embarrassed because all that positivity about saving lives wasn’t happening now. (I know how ridiculous that sounds.)

On top of it all, the ultimate kick in the gut: We wouldn’t even see her alive. I struggled with the idea of Eva’s existence and her humanity all along, about whether a terminal diagnosis made her dead already. I clung to knowing her humanity would be validated to me when I saw her as a living, breathing human being. I wanted to watch her die because that would mean I got to watch her live. I longed for just five minutes with her — heck, five seconds with her. All of that practical stuff about organ donation was irrelevant to me now. I just wanted to hold my baby girl and see her chest move up and down. I just wanted to be her daddy, if only for a few seconds.

Eva came surprisingly quick on Monday. Keri forced me to go get some lunch  —  a sad, lonely lunch featuring me taking bites of chicken fingers in between sobs  —  and I got back to the hospital around noon. Keri sat up and felt some pain. Then she felt another shot of pain ring through her body. Our photographer had just arrived and was setting up. Keri started to panic and asked for nurses to come in. They checked her, and it was time to have a baby. I still wasn’t ready.

At 12:20 we called our family and told them to hurry.

At 12:30, our doctor, Dr. Pinard, arrived.

At 12:33 and 12:35, Laurie from LifeShare tried calling Keri.

At 12:37, Eva Grace Young was born. I cut her umbilical cord at 12:38.

My phone rang at 12:40 and 12:41, and then a text came. It was Laurie from LifeShare. "Hey Royce, it’s Laurie . Will you give me a call when you get a chance? I think I have some good news for you."

Keri and I held each other and cried as the nurses cleaned Eva, and Dr. Pinard called LifeShare for us.

Then, she walked up to the foot of the bed.

"I’m on the phone with LifeShare," Dr. Pinard said, a smile cracking through on her face. "They have a recipient for Eva’s eyes."

It’s weird to say that during probably the worst experience of my life was also maybe the best moment of my life, but I think it was the best moment of my life.

The timing of it all is just something I can’t explain. It wasn’t what we planned or hoped for, but it was everything we needed in that moment. I buried my head in my arms and sobbed harder than I ever have. Keri put her hands over her face and did the same. Happy tears.

This was our reaction when Dr. Pinard told us about Eva’s eyes.

As the nurses handed her to us for the first time, much of the dread and fear was lifted from us and replaced with hope and joy again. Here comes Eva Grace Young, the superhero she was always meant to be.

None of it went as we planned. We’re trying to rest on knowing we did the best we could. We always said we wanted to limit our regret, and I think in 20 years or so, as we reflect on this, there’s not much we’d change.

We’re proud to be Eva’s parents. We’re thrilled with the impact she’s made. People from around the world have sent us messages telling us they’ve signed up to be organ donors because of Eva.

Eva’s the first ever —  not baby, but person — in the state of Oklahoma to donate a whole eye, and she donated two.

Because of her, LifeShare has made connections in other states to set up eye transplants for the future. They have an infant organ donation plan they now are working with sharing with other organ procurement organizations in Colorado and Texas. They call it the Eva Protocol.

I keep thinking about looking into her eyes some day, but more than anything, I think about her eyes seeing her mom, dad, and brother.

We always wondered things about Eva, like what color her hair would be, if she’d have Harrison’s nose, if she’d have dimples like her mama, or what color her eyes would be. In the time we spent with her, one eye was just a little bit open, and I fought the temptation to peek. I can’t ever hold my daughter again. I can’t ever talk to her or hear her giggle. But I can dream about looking into her eyes for the first time one day and finding out what color they are.

This story first appeared on the author's Medium and is reprinted here with permission.

Joy

5 more things that made us smile this week

We love to see single moms succeed, strangers reaching out to help, and parents pushing back against bigotry.

True

In a time where the world feels more divided than ever, we could all use a pick-me-up. With that in mind, we’ve scoured the internet to bring you five feel-good pieces of news and media that put a smile on our faces (and we bet it’ll put one on yours, too).

This week, we’re loving:

This woman’s life-saving good deed

Hockey fan Nadia Popovici was at a game in 2022 when she noticed something strange: an irregular mole on the back of Brian Hamilton, one of the team’s assistant equipment managers. Popovici had experience looking at cancerous moles during her experience volunteering in oncology wards, so she quickly flagged Hamilton down and warned him through the plexiglass that his mole looked cancerous. Hamilton had the mole biopsied—and found Popovici had been right. “She saved my life,” Hamilton said later in a press conference.

Subaru is sharing the love this holiday season

Who knew that buying a car could be an act of love? During the annual Subaru Share the Love® Event, getting a car means supporting the charities you love the most. With every new Subaru purchased or leased, Subaru and its retailers will donate at least $300 to local and national charities, including the ASPCA®, Make-A-Wish®, Meals on Wheels, and the National Park Foundation, among others. And here's another thing to celebrate: After 17 years of the Subaru Share the Love Event nearly $320 million has been donated to charity!

This dad's perfect response to anti-gay bigotry

@fitxander Some AWESOME shade from my dad 😂🌈 #gay #dad @claire_training ♬ Kings & Queens - Ava Max

Sometimes, when a person throws shade, you have to throw it right back. That’s what Xander’s dad did, when a neighbor told him that having two gay kids (Xander and his sister, Claire) meant that he “failed as a parent.” His response? To cover his entire house and yard with pride flags. Go, dad!

This perfect example of brotherly love

You’ve never seen something more heartwarming than this boy helping his little brother before school. According to a TikTok video uploaded by his mom, this amazing kid “always reassures his little brother he’s going to have a great day at school,” giving him a hug, a kiss, and some reassuring words. No, you’re crying.

This single mom who passed her bar exam on the very first try

Taking the bar exam to become a lawyer is tough—so tough that most people can’t do it on their first try, even after months of studying. Which is why this video is downright joyous to watch. In the video, single mom and TikTok user @yougonloverhi records her and her son’s reactions as they find out that she passed the California Bar Exam on the first try. Supermom!

For more reasons to smile, check out all the ways Subaru is sharing the love this holiday season, here.

Pop Culture

The Monkees' acapella Christmas song shows they weren't just funny, they could sing, too

They performed "Riu Chiu," a Spanish carol, on their 1967 Christmas special.

The Monkees singing "Riu Chiu."

The Monkees have a complicated place in the history of rock music. On the one hand, they scored some of the biggest hits of the ‘60s with “I’m a Believer,” “Last Train to Clarksville,” and “Daydream Believer.” On the other, they were a band manufactured in 1967 for a TV show that did little more than sing on their earlier records.

All that changed in 1967 when they wrestled control over their musical careers from the executives who kept them out of the studio and began recording their music with the “Headquarters” album. But even though they proved to be talented musicians, The Monkees were still branded as a prefabricated band whose success was owed more to session musicians and top-tier songwriters.

Anyone who doubts the talent of Mickey Dolenz, Michael Nesmith, Davy Jones and Peter Tork, look no further than a performance on The Monkees’ 1967 “Christmas Show” episode. Like every episode of The Monkees' TV show, this one featured a musical number. But this time, instead of a rock tune with a pre-MTV video of the band monkeying around, this featured the band singing an acapella version of “Riu Chiu,” a Spanish villancico that has attained some contemporary fame as a Christmas carol. The song is attributed to Mateo Flecha the Elder, who died in 1553.

The performance highlights the band’s unique vocal abilities that stem from different musical traditions. Before The Monkees, Dolenz was a rock singer, Nesmith was a country singer-songwriter from Texas, Tork was a folk musician and Jones was an English theatrical performer best known for his performance as the Artful Dodger in “Oliver!” But in this performance, their vocals blend perfectly.

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

The “Christmas Show” episode was memorable for the band’s outstanding vocal performance but also stands as one of the more memorable Christmas specials in TV history. Coming on the heels of the “Summer of Love,” the story is about The Monkees babysitting Melvin Vandersnoot, the hard-hearted child of an affluent family. After numerous attempts to get him into the Christmas spirit, the Monkees warm up his icy heart after showing him love, something all the money in the world can’t buy.

Vandersnoot, was played with incredible maturity by Butch Patrick, best known as Eddie on “The Munsters.”

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

The Monkees' television show would be canceled in 1968 and the band’s original run wouldn’t last much longer. But all four band members would remain in the music business. The Monkees would reunite in the late ‘80s after the show became popular in reruns and would continue to tour over the next four decades, although most of the time, it was without Nesmith. Nesmith would pursue a country career in the ‘70s, and even though his work received a lukewarm reception at the time, his innovative mixture of country music, humor and psychedelia has made him a pioneer in the alt-country genre. Nesmith died in 2021, shortly after touring with Dolenz.

Outside his work as the mainstay in Monkee reunions, Dolenz has starred in numerous theatrical productions and recently released an EP of R.E.M covers. He still tours as a solo act.

Davy Jones went on to perform in Monkee reunions and guest star on several TV shows, most notably on an episode of “The Brady Bunch,” where he was the target of Marcia Brady’s affection. He passed away in 2012.

Peter Tork was a mainstay of The Monkees’ live performances through numerous reunions and played in a band called Shoe Suede Blues. Tork died in 2019 after a long battle with cancer.

Hanson, singing acapella.

In “How Can You Mend a Broken Heart,” the 2020 documentary about the Bee Gees, Noel Gallagher of Oasis noted that there is something special about when brothers harmonize. He should know since he founded Oasis in 1991 with his brother Liam. “When you got brothers singing, it’s like an instrument that no one else can buy,” Gallagher said. “You can’t go buy that sound in a shop. You can’t sing like the Bee Gees because when you got family members singing together, it’s unique.”

The Bee Gees’ incredible success with his songs “Stayin’ Alive” and “More Than a Woman” proved that there was something to the idea that when siblings sing together, there’s nothing like it. It's probably because brothers may have similar vocal tones and more time to practice while growing up together. Bands like The Beach Boys, The Jackson 5, The Carpenters and the Jonas Brothers all got a leg up on the competition by practicing together since they were little kids.

Another group that’s been around for decades with brothers singing incredible harmonies has been Hanson. Sure, everyone remembers their massive success in the late ‘90s with the inescapable hit “MMMBop.” Still, they’ve developed a loyal following, have three top 20 albums on the Billboard charts and a rigorous touring schedule.

The big draw at their shows is their mix of Hanson hits, incredible covers and buttery harmonies. The Hanson brothers, Isaac, Taylor and Zac, proved the brothers-sing-best theory on stage by singing an acapella version of “Too Much Heaven” by the Bee Gees. What’s even more impressive is that the brothers did it without a microphone, which is a considerable risk because there’s a big chance of being disrupted by the audience.

Here is a version from March 2019, when they performed on stage in Australia, the Bee Gees' home country.

- YouTubeyoutu.be


According to Hanson on Stage, the group has performed the song 26 times live, beginning in 2013. The performance we shared is at the Sydney Opera House, which is probably why the band decided to perform without microphones. The opera house was designed to allow orchestras to be heard without amplification.

“Too Much Heaven” was initially released by the Bee Gees in 1979 as a contribution to the "Music for UNICEF" fund. The band donated all of the proceeds from the single to the charity. It’s a lush ballad featuring nine layers of three-part harmonies by Barry, Maurice and Robin Gibb. The song hit number one in the U.S. and Canada and would later make it to the band’s “Spirits Have Flown” album.

Here is the Bee Gees performing the song in 1993 on the BBC’s Pebble Mill One.

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

Hanson recently learned they are a big reason brother-and-sister duo Billie Eilish and FINNEAS got into the music industry. “We sat in our studio with Billie Eilish and FINNEAS when they happened to be in town, [with] their parents talking to us saying, ‘We basically decided they should make music ’cause we saw Hanson and you guys seemed like you were OK,'” Taylor told Billboard. “Like, that’s insane … and here they are, they’ve done incredible, beautiful work.”

Science

MIT’s trillion-frames-per-second camera can capture light as it travels

"There's nothing in the universe that looks fast to this camera."

Photographing the path of light.

A new camera developed at MIT can photograph a trillion frames per second (fps).

Compare that with a traditional movie camera which takes a mere 24fps. This new advancement in photographic technology has given scientists the ability to photograph the movement of the fastest thing in the Universe: light.


The actual event occurred in a nano second—that is one billionth of a second—but the camera has the ability to slow it down to twenty seconds.

time, science, frames per second, bounced light

The amazing camera.

Photo from YouTube|Nova50

For some perspective, according to New York Times writer John Markoff, "If a bullet were tracked in the same fashion moving through the same fluid, the resulting movie would last three years."


In the video below, you'll see experimental footage of light photons traveling 600-million-miles-per-hour through water.

It's impossible to directly record light, so the camera takes millions of scans to recreate each image. The process has been called "femto-photography" and according to Andreas Velten, a researcher involved with the project, "There's nothing in the universe that looks fast to this camera."


This article originally appeared seven years ago.

Yes. Sometimes it really is that easy.

Sure, there are parents out there who essentially see the entire world as their kid’s playground, but by and large most parents really don’t want to subject anyone else to the whims of their little ones. This goes for flights too. When a baby or toddler can’t sit still or won’t stop crying, it’s also incredibly stressful for the parents doing their best to keep things calm while essentially becoming in-flight pariahs. Fun.

In other words, a little empathy can go a long way. And that’s why so many are applauding a now-viral TikTok from Samantha Chadwick (@samanthachadwickk), which shows exactly how powerful a simple mindset shift can be.

In the clip we see Chadwick in her airplane seat, headphones on, as the onscreen text reads:

“There’s a baby on my flight that’s been crying non-stop for like two hours. She sounds so uncomfortable, and her parents are working so hard to calm her down. They are probably feeling so much anxiety and pressure right now. People behind them are talking about the baby screaming. So instead of complaining, I just put on my headphones and watched my show & could barely hear her. It’s that easy.”

TLDR: Babies cry. Parents are trying. Thank God for headphones. Keep on keepin’ on.

@samanthachadwickk Lets normalize being good humans while traveling 🫶🏼 #babycrying #babytravel #travel ♬ Use this sound to go viral - Andrew

Chadwick’s message clearly struck a chord with parents who have been in similar circumstances. Many had also been on the receiving end of kindness from strangers, and it was everything.

“As a mom THANK YOU the anxiety you get when your baby cries in places like that is through the roof.”

“My baby screamed for over an hour on a flight, I tried everything to calm him down and felt terrible. as a man was getting off he stopped and told me I did a great job. It really meant the world.”

“I wish EVERYONE was this kind. I ‘ll never forget my baby crying for an entire 6 hour flight after we got stuck in Vegas and I was exhausted and stressed and multiple sweet angels offered to hold my baby.”

Others could agree with Chadwick’s sentiments exactly.

“Those poor parents. Thank you for handling it like an adult.”

“I always feel bad for the parents, so stressful.”

Others echoed the notion that, unlike the parents actually dealing with the crying child, there are some things the other person can control.

“I am SO sensitive to sounds and get incredibly irritable about them. I bring earplugs/headphones bc that’s MY problem. I don’t understand ppl who try to blame others for their issues.”

“I always say as adults we have the option to wear headphones, that baby and parents are suffering more than anyone else on the plane!”

Listen, it’s understandable that people’s fuses have gotten shorter while traveling because, let’s face it, there’s a lot of questionable choices being made these days, and being cramped together in a steel box thousands of feet in the air only makes it more intolerable. But families have also been put through the ringer several times even before boarding the plane and would like a nice, peaceful flight as much as everyone else. We might not like the hand we’re dealt by the flights gods that day, but for those some odd hours, we’re all in this together. So let’s do our part.

Or as Chadwick put it, “Let’s normalize being good humans while traveling.”

Joy

'A Christmas Carol' summarized in Gen Z slang is giving hella holiday cheer

Comedian Richard Franks understood the assignment, no cap.

Richard Franks/Instagram, Book cover in the public domain

You've never seen "A Christmas Carol" summarized like this.

Since its publication in 1843, Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" has been retold in a zillion different ways, from serious stage plays to animated musicals to a Muppet movie to a horror miniseries. The role of Ebenezer Scrooge (or his character equivalent) has been played by famous actors such as Michael Caine, Bill Murray, Jim Carrey, Patrick Stewart, Albert Finney and Ryan Reynolds. Most of us are at least somewhat familiar with Tiny Tim and the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future, but the beloved holiday tale has never seen a plot summary quite like comedian Richard Franks'.

Franks has been delighting his audience with Gen Z slang summaries of Shakespeare's plays, and now he's doing the same with the classic Dickensian Christmas ghost story. Acting as a teacher in front of a classroom, Franks goes through the plot of "A Christmas Carol" in Gen Z speak with hilarious accuracy. Parents of a teens and young adults will likely recognize a lot of these terms, though they may not know what they actually mean.

Watch how naturally he speaks the lingo:

The best part is that it's actually a perfect summary of the story, though only Gen Z would fully understand it. Older folks may roll their eyes at how younger folks are changing how words are used, but every generation has its own version of language manipulation. The Boomers coined "groovy" and Gen X had "totally radical," after all. Millennials and Gen Z have a lot of crossover between them, but the youngsters have established their own flavor (much of which comes from African-American Vernacular English, or AAVE).

People of all generations are loving Frank's comic take on it all, though.

"You’ve done it again, bruh."

"I haven't finished watching it, I am already laughing. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂"

"Literally the only reason I understood what you’re saying is because I know the plot already, otherwise I’d be done for 😂"

"I love these sketches, they are just genius!! 🙌"

"This is Christmas cheer! (still laughing at 'full on Miley Cyrus and buy yourself flowers')"

If you watched the video in complete befuddlement because you aren't regularly around Gen Zers and have no idea what Franks is saying, here's a glossary to help you out with some of the terminology:

Straight up = truly

Vibes = feeling or mood

No cap = no lie/for real

Tea = gossip/information

Salty AF = very bitter

Throwing shade 24/7 = expressing contempt all day every day

Be giving = is giving off a vibe or feeling

Walking ick = undesirable person

Hella = extremely OR a large amount of (depending on usage)

Pulls up = arrives

Sesh = session

Massive simp = being excessively attentive or affectionate toward someone who's less interested

Nah, bruh = no thanks

Toxic mad riz = manipulative charisma

Ate and left no crumbs = did something perfectly

YOLO = You Only Live Once (same idea as carpe diem)

Bet = yes, I'm in

Slay = do something exceptionally well and with confidence

Low key = basically/undramatically

Understood the assignment = fully grasped the expectation and successfully met it

It's one thing to understand Gen Z's language and it's another to be able to speak it. Some parents like to mess with their kids by attempting to use slang terms and using them completely wrong—always a good laugh. One middle school teacher is on a mission to help parents out by sharing some Gen Alpha slang terms, and another teacher admits to making up slang words to try to convince his students that they're real.

Language is fun, and finding the humor in the way different generations use it makes for excellent comedy. If you want to see more of Richard Franks' Gen Z slang literature lessons, you can follow him on Instagram.