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?
Not really.
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!
Seemples!
7 comments:
Oh bless, bless, bless! I remember taking about three weeks to figure out that one small child's "seekanna" was actually a street cleaner.
I do love the words and phrases kids come up with just wish I was quicker off the mark!
Hooray! You got there in the end... am always getting totally confused by what my Youngest says... must say I just love 'anbarrow'... amazed you got it!xx
I suppose you call it a learning process but I never realised I was the one who had to do the learning!
Their anguished frustration at our imbecility is simultaneously hilarious and gut wrenching isn't it. Got into one of these with a three year old myself recently. Sadly I still don't know what a "spilo" is.
Within the family,we still take off the words my daughter used to use when little."How instering!" we say when fascinated.Earings were always "anyas".And the little wooden puppet that told lies? Poki-no-no.I was bewildered once when a little boy told me my cervix was nice.Trying to break through my confusion he repeated it twice, finally thumping the writing pad. He meant cursive writing.
Our car, a Kia Rio, is 'the TQ' in family parlance, as that was what my 5 year old came up with. And the local sports team is KU, which has also become TQ.
Anbarrow is lovely.
And I love Pam's cervix/cursive story!
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