Watching my toddler figure out how to language is fascinating. Yesterday we were stumped when he kept insisting there was a āLego winnerā behind his bookshelf - it turned out to be a little Lego trophy cup. Not knowing the word for ātrophyā, heād extrapolated a word for āthing you can winā. And then, just now, he held up his empty milk container and said, āMummy? Itās not rubbish. Itās allowed to be a bottle.ā - meaning, effectively, āI want this. Donāt throw it away.ā But to an adult ear, thereās something quite lovely about āitās allowed to be a bottle,ā as if weāre acknowledging that the object is entitled to keep its title even in the absence of the original function.
Another good post to read for those writing small human characters.Ā
My son was about three when he came to me in the middle of the day and said,Ā āMommy, thereās a knight behind the bush.ā I thought he meant a toy knight or something. So I follow him outside and he goes,Ā āListen. Do you hear it? Itās night behind the bush.ā It was a cricket. A cricket was standing in the little patch of shade under the bush, chirping. So, my son saw this dark area with accompanying nighttime sounds and decided, okay, well, that is a night right there. Their brains are incredible.
My little bean knows sheās two, constantly saying proudly āIām two!ā And the other day she saw this very frail old lady who looked one foot in the grave, pulled a face and said āoh shiiiit. Sheās three.ā I almost screamed.
I live in Korea and have a lot of international friends, and the same is true with language barriers in adults.Ā
*Looking at a bowl of pears*Ā āCan you please pass me theā¦ appleās friend?āĀ
OH SHIT SHEāS THREE
