Lost in Translation

A few weeks back I mixed up some sprite and orange juice and gave it to WG. She was suspicious. I told her it was a kiddy cocktail. She tried it and loved it. Today we went to McDonald's for lunch. I mixed up some sprite with orange drink for her. WG's face lit up and she said, "Thanks for making me a cocktail, Mom!" I parked her at the table and went back for some ketchup. There were a few older women sitting at the next table and when I got back, WG was telling them all about how I make her cocktails and how they are her most favorite things to drink. I explained what she was talking about but I don't think they bought it.

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WG loves flowers. Gardening is definitely her thing. When she sees a flower that she doesn't recognize she asks what it is. Her violin teacher has peonies lining her driveway. WG was impressed by them and asked me what they were. I told her they were peonies. She told me she thought pennies were money. I repeated, "No, not pennies, PEE-oh-knees." "Yeah, that's what I said! Pennies!" Then it hit me. She was translating from the Southern accent. When people say "pennies" here it comes out "peonies." Now we call those flowers pennies.

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The lyrics: "The house is a-rockin! Go, go rock it!"

WG's interpretation: "The house is a rocket! Go, go rocket!"

Huh?

(WG trying to walk across the studio without tripping over her craft supplies which were strewn all over the floor): "Boy, this is some rocky terrain!"

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What I said: "WG, you can't check any videos out until we get back into a library routine. The fines are killing me."

What WG heard: "blah blah blah blah library martini blah blah blah..."

What WG said: "Mom, can I have a library martini?"