The Accent

March 12, 2010

If you’ve never met me in real life, there is something that you would need to know to understand this post.

I have a southern accent.

Not a strong one, but just enough to make people giggle sometimes when I’m talking to them.  (Now that I think about it, though, I’m just assuming it’s the accent.  It COULD really be my hair or something stuck in my teeth.)

It is endlessly entertaining to Yummy Man, this accent of mine, and I’m beginning to think it is the sole reason he married me.  Plus, he likes telling his very yankee relatives that I’m a redneck, even though he doesn’t truly know the meaning of that word.

It has to do with 1975 Camaros up on blocks in the front yard, and dryers on the front porch and Moon Pies and RC and hairy, fat men wearing tank tops, drinking beer, and scratching their stomachs.

(Sorry Momma but I’m trying to convey a tangible reality here.)

He just thinks “redneck” means that you say “y’all” a lot and some one-syllable words become two-syllable ones and some vague notion of driving a Gremlin.

Anyway, the point that I AM getting to is that all of our children have the same accent.

Or so I’ve been told.

Which kinda makes my day each time I hear it because it drives Yummy Man a little nuts.

Today at the playground, 8-Year-Old was making a lifelong friend .0084 seconds after we arrived and the little girl said this,

“You talk kinda funny.  You have a weird accent.”

And my sweet little daughter responded like this…..

“Yeah, I know.  It’s because I was born in Germany.”

Seriously.  That’s what she said. 

And, more unsettlingly, that’s what she THINKS!

So we had a little talk on the way home about what a southern accent is and why she has one and how it has nothing to do with being born in a foreign country, although that’s a cool thing and all.

It’s amazing.

Just when I’m thinking about what a bad day I had, something like this happens and I know that I’m very blessed.

And endlessly entertained.

 

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