I am a very creative soul. Which has become glaringly apparent when I’m talking with Ray to and from day care.
There’s the Giant’s bed. As in, the bed for a giant. Bales of hay, piled high with a blue tarp folded haphazardly at the edge. And the cows. Ray will point and say “Cow! Moo…” with the moo soft and gentle. He also calls horses and the occasional goat & sheep a cow. Oh well, that will come in time.
The really sad part are the bumples. Yes. A bumple. The word popped out of my mouth before I thought about it and it has stuck. A bumple is a rail road crossing, that makes the car go “bumpity-bumpity-bump”. A Bumple.
Of course, I’ve also invented a whole new category for relatives. The Auntie Cousin. Yup. You heard it. Because I was a mid-life baby, and so was Ray, many of his cousins (the first kind), are the age that his aunt’s and uncles should be. Leyla is around alot, he loves her to death (he hugged the phone last night when she was talking to him)… Well, cousin just doesn’t get it. She’s an auntie. Sooo I invented the Auntie Cousin.
Now, I don’t really think that my bad language habits are going to hurt him. But it sure will make life interesting for his teachers when he starts pre-school (for communication disorders) on July 28th.
And really. Since we’ve been taking these super-sized morning trips? The whole 2 weeks? He has mastered up and down (via overpasses and the game we play with going “up-up-up” and “down-down-down” complete with sound effects), learned the word cow (and sort of what it is), the sound it makes, and all sorts of interesting things. He has blossomed.
So who cares if I make language more interesting? It’s the gift of a talented soul.