Translation Please

The job description of mom never read translator. Or at least I was naive to the fact that at five and seven my children would still be inventing words and phrases that I would still puzzle me from time to time.

Hope is beginning to talk. She has learned some funny first phrases. "No, wheee" (No way), "ba gwiwl" (Bad girl, to the new dog), "Chy-Chy" (Ty-Ty with a paci in), "Beba" (Becca), her list is ever expanding.

Listening to Hope talk has taken me down memory lane. I remember the first time Ty came to me declaring he had "ote" it. Excuse me? It took several tries before an exasperated 3 year old said, "I ote me breakfast all gone." Of course. It has been otten.

Also around three Becca was to not be able to say "s" combined with any other consonant. She loved picking up the 'craps of paper after they were done with the crafts. Nothing was looked forward to quite as much as 'chool. And as an example of the godly little girl she is she cried at the sight of 'nakes. (Check it out, it's there in Genesis.)I miss that sweet little voice. Papaw (my dad) said she sounded just like a Chatty Cathy doll.


But the tradition of making up words lives on. For example, while Ty was at camp we ran into Bath and Body works. Becca loved looking around and sniffing all the samples. We came across something she just had to have. "Mommy, can I have some hanatizer. It would be good to have some so I can keep my hands clean." Ah, yes the good old hanatizer. Helpful for all those germ ridden places we frequent.

We picked up Ty. Becca informed him that we had bought some "hanatizer" for them both. "Great! Mom can we hanatize our hands now?"

I'm enjoying the last of these words and hoping that if it continues much longer it's a sign that they are going to be the next Shakespeare.