Sunday, 1 November 2009
Words and meanings (or why are grown ups SO slow!)
Well come on now you've just been yelled at by an irate three and a bit year old and it looks like he's turning puce. The word used was: "Anbarrow."
What is it?
What is an Anbarrow?
Come on! Come on!
"Oy want moy ANBARROW!!!!"
OK he's losing it and you are failing as a mother. Every mother knows what an Anbarrow is - don't they? I mean it's obvious isn't it?
I have no idea what Bog Boy wants and he's getting louder and louder and more and more frustrated. He obviously thinks that acoustic bombardment will help his cause and I feel incredibly stupid. Do you think the French feel this way when we ask them the directions to say the Eiffel Tower? In ever increasing English? Do they feel our frustration and are frustrated in return because they do not understand what we are trying to say even though they can see it's obvious to us that we know that what we are saying should be perfectly understandable?
Me: Bog Boy what do you want?
Bog Boy: ANBARROW!
Me: Bog Boy what is Anbarrow? Is it your teddy?
Bog Boy just looks at me, his big blue eyes incredulous. He says very slowly and succinctly: Ann Barrow
Me: Is Ann your friend?
Bog Boy just stares at me for a few moments. He is quite stumped and so am I. There is an impasse. OUr relationship stands in the brink. Communications seem to be failing. He looks at me more closely and you can see the concentration. He says a name. Robin Hood.
OK I'm game we'll try this then.
Me, cautiously: Maid Marian?
Bog Boy, firmly: Robin Hood.
Me, questionably: Sheriff of Nottingham?
Bog Boy, getting cross: Robin Hood. Anbarrow.
Me, flummoxed: Bow and arrow?
Bog Boy delightedly hugs me: An barrow!
Of course Anbarrow is Bow And Arrow. In the same way that heehiles are High heels, Tissing is Kissing and we always Trush our hair all by me own!