Friday, September 30, 2011

Bahs, Catbah and The Big Reveal

"Pardon Me, But Would You Have Any Catbah?"
My child has forever ruined the English language for us. Pop quiz:  Identify the following objects from actual household conversations:
E.C.  "Babe, have you seen my bah?  I heard it just a minute ago.
H.M.  "No, but I've got mine.  Let's go."

H.M.  "What do you want for dinner this week?"
E.C.  "Ahdunno.  Catbah?
H.M. "Yeah, catbah sounds good.  Get about a pound and a half."
E.C. "Done."
"But of course!"
For some reason, Jack substituted BAH in for any sort of "F" sound, so "phone" became BAH (and later BONE).  Same for "fish," hence "CATBAH."  Linguistics be some wacky stuff, yo.

And we litter our daily language with all sorts of other weird words and nonsensical phrases, cooked up by somebody that (1) doesn't read, (2) can't write or spell, and (3) is supposed to be learning our particular brand of the Queen's English from his elders (that'd be us).  We flap our arms and yell, "YANNIT" when we really like something.  We can't bear to correct him on "peenano" yet because it's charming.  And hilarious.  And charming.  But rest assured, 20 years from now, we'll be attending that peenano concerto and charging up our bahs.

Oh, and forgive me, but the best of all was him calling pomegranate juice...

POMMADAMMIT.  I kid you not.

I'm tired of toying with you.  Julio is a....


That's right, friends and neighbors, it looks like we'll be completing our set with one of those crazy and wildly irrational fee-mails.  Jack was pretty pumped, and is now referring to himself as BWUVAH BEAWH [Brother Bear (a'la Berenstain)] and the new kid in town as SISTUW BEAWH [Sister Bear].  Daddy Bear thinks that's awesome.

The anatomy scan showed little hearts and livers and brains and stuff.  So that's good.  I'm told the 'fluid levels' looked good, as well.  I've no idea what that means.  I chose to interpret that as transmission, washer, brake, and power steering.  Sue me.

The Melvin Udall School of Blogging
This is a big one - I'm gearing up for writing blog posts in pink, frilly font (on an unreadable, headache-inducing hot pink background), ruthlessly sprinkling sentences with the words "precious" and "sweet" and "adorable."  This should be really insane to watch.  And precious.  Dare I say sweet?  Adorable, even.  Sounds precious, doesn't it?  See, I'm already getting the adorable hang of this sweet and precious preciousness.

Precious.  Wow.  It really is unsettling in this pink, isn't it?  Holy moly.  I'm getting queasy just writing this.

Bullet Points
  • Jack strips down at the drop of a hat, now.  You'll turn your back on him, and he's instantaneously nude.  Happens all the time.  I'm trying to explain to him that there's a point in his life where this becomes, uh... legally actionable.  And awkward in social situations.  Anyway, H.M. tells me that quiet time inevitably ends with someone getting nekkid.  I hope The New Kid skips all this.  You girl-people generally show more restraint on that point, I think.
  • We rode the Water Taxi the other day.  So there's this meaningless public transportation that kind of putters around the artificial canal that runs nearby.  My boss presciently told me "Yeah, you'll do that once." I now know why:  Hot.  Boring.  Jack did okay, but was somewhat less than enthused.  No fooling, it got stimulus money from the gubbmint.  Natch.
  • Majestad took The Dude (and I guess by extension, Julio) to the Natural Science Museum this week.  There were 1,000 butterflies and Jack...  just wanted to jump in puddles.  Missing the point is what childhood is all about.  I'm told The Mommy enjoyed it, and that's all that counts sometimes.
(Extremely Brief) Conversation of the Week:
H.M.:  Jack, what's in your shorts?  (Obviously asking if there were any, er, accidents lurking in there.)
J.M.W.:  Legs!
You know what that is?  Precious.

This will get ugly.


Jennifer said...

Woohoo on the upcoming baby girl, but that pink is awful. Please don't use it or I will have to stop reading the blog. Also, love the interpretation of pomegranate juice. No need for apologies on it.

El Comodoro said...

No kidding, H.M. said, "Don't ever use that pink again."

Anyway, the use of the pink was strictly rhetorical. If, in fact, use of a nasty font color can be rhetorical.

El Comodoro said...

And for the record, I think the saccharine lingo is worse than the pink. Maybe.