My kids don’t seem to be the kind to form cute names for things. Sadly, a bottle is always a bottle. A book has always been a book. A fork could easily be misconstrued as something else, but you’d just be twisting vowels around. I mean, Abby refers to the cat as her brother, but I’ve yet to decide if that’s charming or confused. As well, they also rarely mispronounce. So when it happens, however briefly, I get a little amused.
Since I needed to wash dishes, I gave the boys a choice between Barney or the Fresh Beat Band. The fact that they actually chose Barney should tell you all you need to know about the appeal of the Fresh Beat Band.
As I was scrubbing last night’s dinner off a pan, Jedi comes in to inform me of Barney’s make-believe itinerary for the day.
“He’s gonna use his imagination!”, he buoyantly chirps. “To go to Hawalle!”
“Go where?”, I asked just in case I had soap bubbles in my ears.
Excitedly, he repeats, “Hawalle!”
This is why children make life a little bit brighter without even trying. In the midst of grease and stuck-on noodles, it made me smile. I almost hated to correct him.
“You mean Hawaii?”
“Oh, yeah, Hawaii! He’s gonna go there!” I don’t know, though, Hawalle sounds nice, too. Although I just Googled it and it appears to be a city in Kuwait. Which would make for a much different episode of Barney.