Monday, November 29, 2010

Talking Wrong :)

I have a tendency to periodically speak ... wrong.  What is going on in my head is not what comes out of my mouth.  At all.  And usually, I hear myself say the correct word, so I'm oftentimes perplexed by my audience's perplexity.  I make an ordinary announcement ... and something like this follows:

Laughter and giggles ...
"What?  Didn't I just say ...."
"Nope," snicker, snicker, "You didn't.  You said ..."  Hee, hee!

I would like to blame it on the kids and my having given birth to them and half my brain, but I'm afraid I've been this way a long time.  There are two particular memories I have of talking wrong that still come up in conversation ... proof that talking wrong has been a life-long trait.  Both transpired before we had kids.

Article of Evidence #1

One evening before Christmas, Brett asked me what I would like as a gift.  I was standing in our closet putting away clothes when I replied in a sing-song voice, "Leather Boooties!"

Brett turned to me, with this "what in the world?!" look on his face, and asked, "What did you say?"

"Wool socks."

"That's NOT what you just said."

"Yes it was."

"No.  It wasn't.  You said, 'Leather Booties'."

"No!  I did?"

"Yes.  You did."

We still laugh about that one!


Article of Evidence #2

One morning, we were hanging out on the couch reading the paper.  Brett asked me what I wanted for breakfast.  I thought for a minute and responded with, "Pizza, pizza, slooooww."  

This time I knew that something strange had escaped my mouth and I busted up laughing.  

Brett, looked stunned, "What?"

I clarified:  "A piece of cold pizza."  Ahh-haa ... 

Growing up, we often enjoyed eating a piece of pizza from the night before.  We had a tradition of eating out at Pizza Hut on Saturday nights during swim season ... and having a little more the next morning for breakfast.   Pizza Hut is truly the best cold pizza.  Right out of the box.  Mmmm ...

Yeah ... that was memorable.  

Now, seeing as my mouth doesn't always cooperate, is it any wonder that sometimes our kids talk wrong, too?  Some of my favorite miss-speaks of the kids are from when they were little.  When Aaron was about three and in full-construction-obession, he would get really excited about his construction trucks and say, "Excagrrraaator!" for excavator.

I also remember when Norah would call her little, pink, pig friend, "Pliget" in place of Piglet.  I was so sad when she started saying it right. :(  She is also famous for shouting, "I'm so exciting!" when she was thrilled about something.  Yes, she was exciting in her excitement about being excited.

One of my favorites from Ashley is from just after Lydia was born.  We were riding somewhere in the van and Lydia was crying.  And crying.  And crying.  Sweet Ashley piped up from the seat next to her, "It's okay Weeda Mae."  Weeda = Lydia ... when you can't say your L's.  Mae is Ashley's middle name.

I corrected her, "That's sweet honey, but her name is Lydia Rachel."

Long pause ... "It's okay Weeda Mae Wachow."

Little Lydia still gets called Weeda Mae by her Mommy. :)

Right now Lydia is still stuck on "Ma-ma" as her most favorite word ... and it can mean a variety things.  Even with her limited vocabulary, she has said a few things wrong - even with just that one word.  She is rather obstinate about calling Daddy "Ma-ma" ... even when she's being corrected and looking very repentant and sad.  She's supposed to answer, "Yes, Daddy" at the end of her little disciplinary chat ... but often will pout out her lip and mutter a little, "Mow Ma-ma".  Her little, "Thank You" is even a little reminiscent of "Ma-ma" as is "More, please."  I guess it's all in the context!

All this talking wrong reminds me of a skit that Steve Martin did years ago about teaching your kids to talk wrong by giving them the wrong words to use.  Every now and then when the kids (or I!) come up with a real zinger, Brett or I will quote him:

"Wouldn't it be great if we taught our kids to talk wrong? Like on their first day of school and they have to go to the bathroom. They raise their hand and say, "Mambo dogface in the banana patch?"


As it turns out, however, we don't have to be taught to talk wrong ... we can do that all on our own! 

3 comments:

  1. I can relate! Since I've had Judah I feel like life is one constant game of charades because I can't think of the words I need. I also feel like Tourette's is a possibility because I often say the opposite of what I mean; example is babysitter for care group's name is Winter, guess who calls her Summer almost every time? Thankfully, though I intend to say one thing but say another, I can usually hear what actually got said in my mind so the clarifying can start earlier rather than later! :)

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  2. Isn't that the truth! I often amaze my students with my backwards talk. I mix up the first consonant with the wrong word, like "rote neading" instead of note reading...Haha! Thanks for the fun! XXOO

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  3. I recently came accross your blog and have been reading along. I thought I would leave my first comment. I dont know what to say except that I have enjoyed reading. Nice blog.

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