Joyinvanity

Our friends have a daughter, now a teenager, who when she was very young, had several speech “impediments.” She just couldn’t pronounce certain words or letters. In particular, her “s” sounded like an “f.”

Well, when she was a young one, this problem with proper pronunciation provided much mirth for her parents. As she has gotten older, her parents have had to tell her about several little snafus, because, not unexpectedly, she has no independent recollection of the “fuff fee ufed to fay.”

While we were on buh-cay-shun, i.e. “vacation,” we discovered she had never heard one of our favorite stories that her parents shared with us. So her mom, thinking that she was now mature enough to understand the story, told it again. I will try to do it justice:

Once upon a time there was a cute and sweet little girl, hereinabove mentioned with the aforesaid impediment, who was eating supper with her family at the Solid Rock Café (yeah, cute name, huh? Her father was in seminary). Well, she, as most children do, loved to talk about what was most important to her at the time: some nursing kittens. She had even given them a cute little name. During the meal, the little girl began her story about the kittens with her pet name: “The Sucking Ones . . .” And immediately her parents turned brilliant red as all the seminary students and their families turned aghast to look at our friends.

Our friends’ daughter turned a similar shade and laughed heartily as she realized what she had said. We were all laughing as hard as our stomachs would allow, when we heard the eight year-old daughter, softly, but clearly, pose a poignant question: “The *@#%ing ones?!? What’s that?”

Needless to say, we laughed harder, though discreetly, as her mom told her calmly not to say that anymore.

*@#%ing phonics!