Living in a foreign country and raising small children in a land different from your own rearing, makes for interesting parenting. Although English is English, vocabulary and diction in a different culture can bring about the slightest twist to spoken pet peeves habits. Both girls are becoming true Irish lasses with the sing-song accent and all.
My Irish DH grew up pronouncing 'th’ with a silent ‘h’. I’ll admit it is cute when dating and tolerable when married, but when parenting, I struggle with whether or not to correct.
Even in our early days of dating, I corrected. Like when DH lost his golf head cover, I immediately interceded when he told the marshall it had a ‘tree’ on the front. When I saw the blank look on Mr. Marshall’s face, I corrected my DH and said, “He means, it has a numeral three on the front.
Fast forward nine years, and what I hear is,
“Mommy! I cut my tongue.”
And in my head I think, “What in god’s name are you doing with something sharp in your mouth?”
But I say aloud, “You cut your tongue? How?”
They get me every time.
“NO, Mom, my tongue!”
“Your tongue?”
With a shoved thumb in my face for clarification, she declares,
“Nooooo, Mom, my thumb!”
Oh.
My Irish DH grew up pronouncing 'th’ with a silent ‘h’. I’ll admit it is cute when dating and tolerable when married, but when parenting, I struggle with whether or not to correct.
Even in our early days of dating, I corrected. Like when DH lost his golf head cover, I immediately interceded when he told the marshall it had a ‘tree’ on the front. When I saw the blank look on Mr. Marshall’s face, I corrected my DH and said, “He means, it has a numeral three on the front.
Fast forward nine years, and what I hear is,
“Mommy! I cut my tongue.”
And in my head I think, “What in god’s name are you doing with something sharp in your mouth?”
But I say aloud, “You cut your tongue? How?”
They get me every time.
“NO, Mom, my tongue!”
“Your tongue?”
With a shoved thumb in my face for clarification, she declares,
“Nooooo, Mom, my thumb!”
Oh.
****
The other day Babydoll came to me and said, “Mom, I’m tirsty”
“You mean, th-irsty?” Emphasis on the ‘th’.
“Mom, I’m tirsty!”
“Thirsty?” More emphasis.
I felt DH’s casual glance across the room, probably wondering how long I could keep up this verbal battle of the TH.
Babydoll, too, was relentless.
“Mommy, I’m tirsty!” And apparently, she was parched.
Knowing I would get no backup relief from DH, I spoke to the only other speaker in the room, 3yo Cutiepie.
“Cutiepie, what is it, is it tirsty or thirsty?"
She looks up as if to wonder what the big deal is and says, nonchalantly,
“I’d just say, I want a drink!”
4 comments:
Take heart...we have those type of things happen in our house too.. I'm Canadian, DH is English and our 5 year old daughter is picking up a Rugby accent..."No" comes out "Now"...drives me nuts!!
OMG, laughing hysterically at cutiepie's 3yo sass. And she doesn't even know it yet. That girl (or tat girl) is going to have one personality!
Love hearing the tales of an american girl in ireland...
Verry Funny!!! I too have a family that is missing the letter "h". Here in Wexford we also say, Qware for queer and sure don't ya know... My children and I have a running gag going on in the privacy of our own home regarding tunder and lightening. I correct and won't give you what you want until you speak properly...such a meanie!!!!
More on the TH.... saga. It's hard when it's in your name..... our little 5 year old Australian boy living in Ireland thinks everyone doesn't hear him when introducing his name.... and he tries to correct - everytime. My name is not TEO - It's THEO.
I don't think he will ever win this battle - but no doubt he will keep on trying.
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