I swear I don't know how it's possible, but whatever tummy ailment BK had/has seems to have migrated north to Oakland as my tummy is unsettled and just a yitbit queasy.
What's a "yitbit" you may ask yourself...or no one, in particular?
For a couple of summers in high school, I worked for my father during summer vac. At that time, he had a small home improvement company. One of the "day laborers" (DL) on the work crew to which I was assigned had a speech impediment. Whenever he was assisting the chief carpenter in framing something, or lining up a piece of lumber, the two would engage in a rather odd exchange of information which included the two words "a little bit". "Move it a little bit to the right (or left)" is what you would expect to hear.
Mr. Heaton, the carpenter (who always seemed to have precisely one drop of perspiration languishing on the tip of his nose) was a colorful character. Among his pet phrases was "I'm satisfied..." as in "I'm satisfied it's going to be a hot day today;" "I'm satisfied that lunch will taste mighty good today;" and "I'm satisfied that we'll get XXXXX done before quittin' time."
Anyway...Heaton and this DL (whose name eludes me, but was very appropriate to him) would speak in what seemed like a code. Heaton would ask, "Do I need to come to you?" (meaning, of course, should I slide the board a little bit your way?). DL would reply "Yitbit". Or Heaton would ask if he left enough room for something. DL would say "Yitbit".
For the longest time -- you'll be amazed, I'm sure -- I never associated "Yitbit" with "a little bit" but allowed myself to fancy it was some strange carpenter/DL "speak."
Did I go on too long and stray off the topic here? Yitbit!
