Dwiving Daddy to Distwaction
As I've previously mentioned, Amy's mastery of English is... shall we say... pending. She's got all the non-verbals right - her intonation and gesticulation are spot-on, if a little insistent and chubby. The only thing she's really got to work on now is the pronunciation of words. A mere trifle, really.
Usually hubby and I can work out what she's trying to say, by playing charades, making educated guesses or, as a last resort, holding up every item in the room consecutively until she says "Yay!" And like many other mummies, I'm a lot better at deciphering Amese than her father is. Except for yesterday.
I'm currently working on a lovely contract with my old employer (with money and everything!), in which I'm required to travel to Sydney once a week to make an appearance at head office. There were a few teething problems when I started, but Stocko is generally pretty awesome in the kid-minding department, and instances of exasperation are getting fewer and further between. Yesterday, however, I was sitting at my desk when my phone rang. It was Stocko. No hello - just the familiar sound of Amy's wail in the background, and Him Indoors asking desperately, "I give up. Babe, what does 'Mah-bwee' mean?"
We never did figure it out.