Delicious Language

My children love to play with words. They come by it naturally, I suppose. Can’t fault children of two English teachers for knowing their way around the language. And these three are especially full of verbage, let me tell you! The oldest flaunts her adverbs as only she can, the middle guy spouts his philosophies and prose, but this little one: the things that come out of HIS mouth are as diverse as they are unique.

My favorite is the way he says thank you. I can’t remember when it started, but somewhere between the sweetness of age three and the professional two-ness of it all, he coined a phrase that has been inaugurated into the family lore. It was some mundane occasion, probably on a Tuesday, and I was most likely handing him his milk, or MOKE, as we say in our house. He looked at me, brown eyes bulging, two freckles along his upper lip, and with a smile pronounced “Why thank you, my grand gate!” It sounded so regal coming from his lips, and certainly beat the mumbled “humph” of his brother. And I have continued to receive such thanks for the last half of the year. It has also morphed into usage with requests such as “Can I have my yogurt, my grand gate?”

Now where did he get this vernacular? I’ve quizzed him countless times in the last few months, thinking it had come from a show or a book or a pre-school teacher, but he remains firm in his denials. It just arrived here, with his giggling lilt and sparkling looks. Out of the mouths of babes, I suppose.

He just uses the language to suit his needs. (Something his mother has often been accused of, if the truth were known.) And he somehow makes the world look rosier through his language, or at least knocks you off balance long enough to sneak in a slur. With age four has come a bit of obstinance, for instance, and anger when he doesn’t get his own way. And then he looks at me, face strong and fierce, and proclaims “You bad old stump.” Now, really, who says this? Who walks around calling people stumps?

This young charmer of mine, that’s who. I prefer the positive spin of course, and I am tickled pink when I hear his sweet little words when I tuck him into to bed and hand him his “vitamint” at the end of a long busy day: “Why thank you my grand gate.” And I know I am the only mommy in the world who ever hears those whispered words!