Squeakish

A has invented her own language. You can't understand it; lots of q's and w's. She has tried to educate her father and I on the finer points of communicating in this language, telling us how to say certain words. I imagine this is how an English-language learner feels because the sound of the words keeps changing every time we try to pronounce them.

Saturday morning as we all hung out in the driveway, J decided to give her language the name "Squeakish" since her nickname is Squeaker. She thought that was grand. She promptly declared herself a Squeakish-princess-who-runs-fast and gave us a coronation speech in Squeakish. She carried on for quite awhile, doing races with daddy and riding her toys. I did something that offended her delicate sensibilities, though, and she proceeded to let me have it in Squeakish.

Now I generally cannot tolerate a disrespectful preschooler and I knew what was spewing out of her heart even if the words didn't compute. But the whole scene was so absurd with her screwed-up face and outstretched hand and wacky words, that I couldn't help but collapse on the concrete laughing. The princess was none too pleased with this response and I'm pretty sure I was banished from the kingdom of Squeakish. I also had to apologize for laughing at her and ask her to forgive me. We did all that in English, though.