That's research parlance for Head of Household. I don't believe it has made it into the vernacular of texting yet. I'm thinking it's just a matter of time.
[BTW, Sir Google, is it not about time you started recognizing that "texting" is, in fact, a word?]
At dinner Friday night, I asserted Eldest's claim to sit at one end of the table, no longer on my immediate left. Pete remains at the head of the table, to my right. Youngest sits to his immediate right. Then there is a space, and it is Eldest at the other end. Daughter sits between his end and me.
[Eff. I really need to draw a diagram, don't I? Tough shit.]
Youngest notes the location of Eldest with some wonderment. "Why does he get to sit there? Can I switch places with Dad?"
"No. Dad sits at that end. He's the head of the household," I say.
"Can I have that in writing?" Pete asks.
Youngest is up out of his seat, lickety-split, and proceeds to ask for a contract to be written.
Pete, in his infinite knowledge, drafts the contract, and we both sign.
Just another family sitting around the dinner table. In my hip pocket, I figured I could renege any contract by pointing out the document is written in pencil, has no witnesses, and isn't notarized.
No need, though, eh?