And what, you are asking, is a spucket?
Every family ends up with its own made-up words. For example, a “muffin-toast” is Kiddo#3’s word for an English muffin. A don-don is the word Kiddo#1 derived for a thing you hang from your rear-view mirror.
When he was five, Kiddo#1 shouted at his sister, “Get away from me, you dumb spucket!”
Cue me wondering what a spucket was. Husband didn’t know either. It took a while to figure it out.
Cyberchase. The main villain is The Hacker. He has two sidekicks, Buzz and Delete.
The Hacker frequently calls them “you Dunce Buckets.” My son, with his inimitable way of parsing spoken language, heard it as “you dumb spuckets,” and derived from this that a spucket is a short, incompetent sidekick.
Thus it was easily applied by a five-year-old to his one-year-old sister.
Since then, we’ve found “spucket” to be a useful term. My brother-in-law, when he had an internship at my Patient Husband’s place of employment, didn’t have a real title and so we called him “Nadia’s Spucket.” I frequently tell my Patient Husband that for my birthday, I want a spucket. I sometimes refer to myself as my Patient Husband’s spucket, which is kind of funny given the difference in height.
Spucket has entered out daily language, and so I pass it along to you. As the English language loses perfectly good words in the postliterate era, such as “sack,” we need replacements in order to prevent our descent into mere grunting animals. Try to use “spucket” in a sentence today. It will do you good, I promise.