lost in translation
I don’t know what’s wrong with me here lately,but I can’t seem to understand what my kids are saying.
The other morning my five year old came down the stairs as I was exiting out of the laundry room when she began speaking to me. ” Blah,ma wick ma la, la, blah.” I swear that’s what she said…word for word. Now, it didn’t help any that she was crying while speaking.
“What?” I asked her very confused, wondering if I hadn’t stepped into the twilight zone instead of my kitchen.
“BLAH, MA ICHMA LA LA BLAH!” she repeated louder as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
Well, I still didn’t understand her and told her so. You ever had a five year old sigh out loud and look at you as if you were mentally challenged? It makes one feel…well…mentally challenged.
“Honey, slow down, move your hand away from your face, and speak English this time; mommy doesn’t understand you.
Long about this time my oldest daughter dashes down the stairs on the way the laundry room. “She’s saying that she doesn’t have any school clothes in her closet to wear, and she wants to know if it’s cold outside.” Off she disappears as fast as she had appeared.
Now tell me the truth…did you get that from what my 5yr old spoke? No, you didn’t and neither did I.
“Oh..” I answered still convinced that these weren’t my kids at all but aliens in disguise, and that I was on the planet Mars.
The morning progressed on and it was time to send out the kiddies to catch the bus. “Time to head out!” I shout from the bottom of the stairs.
Down came my rag-tag bunch, and then it happened again.
“Blah wa ma eye ooose!!!!’
I didn’t bother to ask the Martian to repeat herself this time, but turned immediately to the translator standing in the doorway brushing her hair.
” She say’s she can’t tie her shoes.”
“Mom… you really didn’t understand what she was saying?”
“Not a word of it.”
“Are you sure you’re gonna be alright today here by yourself?”
“Shut up and go catch the bus.”
I’ll be honest with you, my blogging public, this happened to me two days in a row. I was starting to get worried that maybe they, my kids, weren’t the aliens at all. I was—transplanted here eons ago to study and live among the inhabitants of this primitive planet (you know, that would certainly explain a lot of things). But, on the third day everything seemed fine. All words spoken to me were conveyed and understood without the need of a translator.
So there you have it folks: a mystery. A mystery for which I have no explanation. Now if you will please excuse me, I need to go and suck the brains from some unsuspecting cows and report back to my commanding officer.
This is Mork…uhm, I mean Scottie signing off.