You Say Basghetti, I Say Pasghetti

We were at a potluck a few weeks ago, and I was sitting at the kids table. (Partly because I had three of the kids myself, and partly because I was feeling antisocial.) One of the preschool-age girls was eating spaghetti, which she adorably kept calling “basghetti.” Finally, her older brother rolled his eyes and knowingly corrected her: “It’s not called basghetti. It’s called PAsghetti!”

Kids are awesome.

Speaking of mispronouncing words, BoyWonder is really starting to get the hang of the whole talking thing. Today he actually called a chip a “cheep” instead of “pote.” And he’s beginning to string two or three words together in an intelligible fashion on a fairly regular basis.

In a way, it’s great. It’s always reassuring when your kids are clearly moving along those milestones. But at the same time, it makes me kinda sad. I love it when he mispronounces words. Or when he tells an entire story, complete with inflections and gestures, and then laughs at the hilarious event he just relayed without realizing I have no clue what he’s said. It’s so stinking adorable, I just can’t stand it.

The Muse could speak clearly pretty early on, and she would pronounce all these big words with no problem. But for some reason, she always pronounced the word “fish” as “pllll.” No vowel sound, even. “Mommy, look at the beautiful pllll swimming in the water!” Totally random.

Dolittle used to pronounce “fl” as “sl.” So floss was “sloss” and “flip-flops” were “slip-slops.” And she’d always add an “r” after the letter “z.” So zipper was “zripper” and zebra was “zrebra.” She also had a voice that sounded just like Elmo for the longest time. She’s in a bit of a whiny phase right now, so her voice gets up to that Elmo octave sometimes. It’s not so cute now as it was back then.

It’s a good thing their diapers are so nasty when they reach the toddler stage. Otherwise I don’t think I’d ever want to leave it.

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Annie writes about life, motherhood, world issues, beautiful places, and anything else that tickles her brain. On good days, she enjoys juggling life with her husband and homeschooling her children. On bad days, she binges on chocolate chips and dreams of traveling the world alone.

Comments 4

  1. My sister has forbidden us from ever correcting her daughter when she mispronounces certain words. She’s six now, and though she has grown out of words like “elephalent” and calling my little dog Oliver “Olliviler”, she still – every Tuesday and Thursday – puts on her “ledortard” for ballet class. Absolutely priceless. As a family we’ve even taken to pronouncing words the Sidona-way

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