Thursday, September 11, 2008

say what?

My sister, Farm Girl, has the following on her resume: Pioneer Interpreter.

Which means she used to parade around in turn-of-the-century prairie clothes and make jam over an open fire, in the middle of the hot summer, entertaining and educating tourists and schoolchildren alike.
Or something like that. She was good at it. So good, she just got a job at some important American History-type museum in The District.


Following her example, I have decided to add the following to MY resume: Child Interpreter.

At times I parade around covered in child detritus. And though I don't entertain anyone, I do understand and interpret the things my children say.

I am fluent in Toddler, Dentally Impaired, and I am currently learning Teen (lol). (See?)

My curriculum vitae:

The Middle Carrotstick, when he was 2, about once a day would tell us he was "Sinking". Being well-versed in Toddler, I did not confuse "sinking" with "thinking," despite the concentration -- and consternation -- on his face. I knew he was thinking about stinking.

When the Oldest Carrotstick says she "Hate[s] Piano!" What she is really saying is "I want to go hang out with my friends -- not practice. Not now. Not ever. Why are you so mean?"

I am presently enrolled in a refresher course in Dentally Impaired. The Littlest Carrotstick, after the recent loss of his fourth tooth, is now missing his two front teeth, which has resulted in a little lispth. And inadvertant spit showers. This became very apparent after a trip to the library.

Littlest Carrotstick: "Mom! I justh found the sickest book!"
Lunch Lady: "Why? What was it about?"
LC: "I don't know. It was justh sick."
LL: "Did it have gross pictures or something?"
LC: "No, Mom! It was sick. Sick! Like thisth: (holding his hands about 5 inches apart.) Sick. Really sick."
LL: (light finally dawning) Oh! Thick! You saw a thick book!
LC: Sats what I said, sick.

Ok, so I'll admit, I've got to brush up on my Dentally Impaired, but I've got time. He's got 16 more teeth to lose.

To prevent atrophy, I've been practicing my Toddler with this little man, trying to keep up on it. (see how he's a glowing, and a little blurry? It's not that he's out of focus, it's cause he's an ANGEL and it's hard to capture angels on film. or whatever it is digital cameras use.)

Anyone in need of a translator?

(yes, Farm Girl, I know I am willfully mis-interpreting your occupation. Maybe it would be more appropriate if they called you a pioneer channeler or medium? That would be spooktacular.)

3 comments:

Jana said...

He has angel moments, but they quickly become blurred by non-angel moments, such as rifling through innocent purses and exposing their supposed-to-stay hidden contents. (Sorry!!!!) Mostly we are just glad that he has started using more than grunts and noises and that he has need of a translator! :)

Nanette said...

I think I was there the day you took that stinking picture! :)
I could use your help with Dentally enhanced! (i.e. pallet spreader)
For the first hour she sounded like Eliza Doolittle with marbles in her mouth!

Farm Girl said...

That's right, I speak Pioneer. And on my resume it is LEAD Pioneer Interpreter, thank you very much.