The senior women of my Midwestern tribe tend toward lightness in language. This has the effect of living happy, which isn’t altogether true but in some ways, it is.
Among their words I have some favorites:
Jumpin’ Jiminiy or its Scandinavian variation, Yumpin’ Yiminy.
Well, I’ll be darned.
Well, I never.
She’s a looker, or its gender variation, He’s a looker.
In a pickle.
Cute as a button.
Well, that’s a new one on me.
Some of their words are out of style, but they ignore that so I do, too:
Grouch or Grouchy.
The cat’s meow.