I love words. Always have. It was a red-letter day when my ninth grade English teacher wheeled in the TV to let us watch Wordsmith on PBS. For some odd reason, my peers did not seem to share my elation.
When Genius was born, I talked to him nonstop. You never know when a toddler might grow up to be on Jeopardy and need to regurgitate obscure facts. Before the Parents as Teachers budget was decimated, Genius had his own personal educator who made home visits. She said she loved to come to our house. Not only because the floor where she interacted with Genius was free of roaches, but because he talked like a little adult. "I'll bet you talk to him like an adult, don't you? He seems so mature." Ahem. He was my first baby. I did not know there was a special baby language. So I talked to him like a person. Yes.
Sometimes, a child does not know the nuances of adult language. I remember telling toddler Genius, who had a stubborn streak, believe it or not, which I attribute to his father, that he was so argumentative, I was certain he would grow up to be a lawyer.
"I am NOT a lawyer!" said Genius. "YOU are the lawyer!" He had the word confused with liar. Well. As the little boy said with a shrug of his shoulders, no words necessary, in Liar Liar, "Same difference."
This afternoon, The Pony got into the act. He tried several times to explain to me about a smell emanating from an object. Three times, he became tongue-tied, trying to get his idea out. I finally put an end to the struggle. "I get it. You're wanting to use the word emanating." The Pony concurred.
Nearer to home, we passed a house where a large brown hound was sunning himself on top of a red Chevy Cavalier. Not on the hood or trunk. On the roof. He covered the entire square-footage. The Pony and I debated on how he got up there.
"Duh. He climbed up there."
"How do our cats get on top of our car? He used his feet."
"But cats can climb. Dogs can't."
"They can jump. How do you THINK he got up there? Perhaps when the people bought their car, it came with a large brown dog on top. The dealer put him there, I guess."
"No. Somebody at home put him there. They would have noticed at the dealer. He's only like the one-hundred-pound gorilla in the room."
"Uh huh. Then nobody would have noticed. Because one hundred pounds is mighty small for a gorilla. They weigh much more than that."
"DOH! I feel so foolish now."
I didn't have the heart to tell him about the elephant in the room.