My family, like any other, has its own weird language.
As my children have learned to speak, they have adopted their own way of saying things. For the longest time, Charlie called his big brother “Zakky.” He was just unable to get that other syllable out and call him “Zacharie.” The day he finally fully pronounced the name was bittersweet. We cheered his grown up achievement, and lamented the loss of baby talk.
So it is with that kind of melancholy that we often don’t correct the words kids mispronounce in our family. That silly extra vowel or consonant becomes a unique character trait we want to save and bottle forever.
Thankfully, our kids’ mispronunciations haven’t gone as extreme as the Dump Truck incident that Whit Honea hilariously experienced.
Check that, there was the time my 3-year-old came home from preschool and decided to delight us with a rendition of Ring Around The Rosie.
I’ll keep it clean for the rest of the mispronunciations my kids serve up.