“I don’t speak whinese”
That is what I tell my kids any time they come up to me whining about how something doesn’t work the way they think it should, or how the other one stole something from them, or how the dogs won’t leave them alone. I am not familiar with that language. Come back again when you speak English.
I’m not saying this works all the time; hell, I’m not saying it EVER works, but I always hope that it will one day get through to these little hooligans that I simply cannot understand them when they’re speaking whine. Kids are notoriously hard to understand to begin with- when you combine that with blubbering, sobs, and long drawn out vowels- it’s damn near impossible to decipher. This can make life frustrating for everyone involved!
Just try to imagine if you were trying to tell someone something, and in your brain you knew exactly what that something was, but when it came out of your mouth no one else understood what in the flying fart you were saying. You repeat it and repeat it because you swear you’re saying it correctly and are just met with confused stares and shrugging shoulders. I’d want to cut a bitch. I am guessing this explains a lot of Parker’s attitude.
This isn’t to say that Holden NEVER mispronounces things. He does have the tendency to read books and just guess on the ones that he has trouble sounding out- and more often than not- his guesses are wrong… but the biggest mispronouncer is Parker. And he ain’t happy about that title.
He is in the tail end of the terrorist threes, which is an evil a-holey age where kids’ brains work faster than their mouths and sometimes it just comes out in one giant clusterfuck of nonsense. I spend every waking moment with the child, so I understand him better than everyone else- but sometimes even I am stumped. How these situations will end is never predictable. Sometimes he’ll flip his fucking shit like a “Real Housewife of New Jersey,” sometimes I get REALLY lucky and guess it, and then there are the other times. The times where he says something, and I hear it loud and clear but SWEAR that what I heard CANNOT be what he is saying. Every parent has moments like these with their children. It’s a real headscratcher… especially when what you’re hearing CANNOT be what they are saying.
No, really- it CAN’T be! Why?
For some reason, we parents hear things a little… differently than children do. I guess you could blame that on our vast vocabularies and years of experience here on earth and the ability to pronounce things correctly the first time… most of the time anyway. Or maybe it’s just because we’re pervy gutter-brains.
It’s either one of those, or yesterday Parker was walking around asking “Where is my ERECTION?”
He was distraught, y’all. He could NOT find his erection anywhere, and he really wanted it back.
“ERECTION!!! I SAID ERECTION! ERECTION, where are you??”
What in the world could he be saying? I look around the kitchen, searching for anything that could sound even remotely like erection…
“NO! My ERECTION!”
There’s really not much that sounds like erection that you’ll find in a kitchen.
“I don’t know what you’re saying!”
He reduces to tears. The bottom lip curls.
“I want my erection!”
I never did find out what it was he was looking for. It honestly could be ANYTHING and I may never know. Maybe he wanted to join the boy band “One Direction,” or perhaps he was just crying because he wanted to be like Christina Aguilera and see his Reflection… I just hope that if the child really did go and lose his erection, he finds it before he gets too old to give me grandchildren.
Enunciation is important, people.
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Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.
Parenthood is when you start counting the minutes to bed time before 11am.
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