You know how you can yell at your kids for two hours straight and they won’t hear a word you’re saying, but you can accidentally drop an F-bomb and they’ll repeat that for the rest of their lives? Well, that’s what’s happening in our household right now, but with a different set of words.
As you know, B’s first language is Italian, and while she’s picking up English really well, there are still a lot of words she hasn’t learned yet. Then there’s my dad, who’s spoken ONLY English his whole life (unless you count “Garfield, NJ,” which is a language unto itself), yet somehow manages to insert his Shakespearean genius into the most unwelcome of circumstances.
These two forces came together the other night to form the perfect storm, when B attempted to recount to my dad that she had seen a “mourning dove” (yes, that’s what it’s called – see below for a zoomed-out photo from a rooftop. How uplifting and pleasant!) during one of our after-dinner walks.
The conversation went like this:
B: “Dziadziu, guess what!”
Him: “What, B?”
B: “Yesterday night, I seen a bird!”
Him: “Oh yeah?”
B: “Yeah! Him was like a little bird, but like a little owl too because Him say ‘Hoot Hoot’!”
Him (with his characteristic sarcastic smirk): “No way! So if he’s half bird and half owl, he must be a bowel!”
B’s eyes lit up at this revelation, both in awe of my father’s “knowledge” and at this wonderful new word that she had never heard before.
From that moment on, everything that crossed her path became connected in some way to a “bowel.” Dog crossing the street? Bowel’s playmate. Young child in a stroller? Definitely Bowel’s owner. Food served at dinner? Totally from Bowel’s house. Her stuffed animals? The Bowel Family.
It’s been over a week and we’re still obsessing over Bowel. I just hope this goes away in September so she doesn’t start recounting these stories to her new schoolmates or we’re going to have an even harder time making friends than I thought…
Love you, Dad… <3