Driving to the zoo last Sunday afternoon, we all had a great and informative conversation. It went something like this…
Mabel: In my class when we do something good, we get a Teddygram.
Me, envisaging a little message from teacher on a teddy-shaped piece of paper, saying “Good job” or “Super star” or something: Oh, that’s nice. Do you know why it’s called a Teddygram?
Dash: Because it’s like a telegram!
Me: And what’s a telegram?
Dash: A thing they used to use to send messages?
Me, B, Dash, Mabel: [Discussion ranging over how telegrams were sent, morse code, post offices, cable ships (I had no idea), underwater phone lines etc.]
Mabel: And the great thing about Teddygrams is that they taste yummy.
Mabel: Because they’re cookies!
Me: OH. It’s not a TeddyGRAM, it’s a Teddy GRAHAM. A Graham cracker in the shape of a teddy.
So that’s what happens when your child speaks American and you don’t.
I have other tales to tell, of more mittens and mystery rashes and allergic reactions and homeschooling on sick days and learning to swallow pills and husbands who are fecking off to regions far north to run marathons and a very exciting upcoming Trip For Me Without Children; but they’ll keep.
Have a happy weekend. The Blog Awards take place on Saturday night and I am DEADLY ENVIOUS of all the Irish Parenting Bloggers who will be there in their fancy frocks and their high heels and getting to wear eyeshadow, no doubt, and I will be there in spirit but sadly not in actuality. Best of luck to everyone in the running for a prize, and to anyone who’s not, you were clearly robbed. Mwah!