Talk the Talk (Adventures of L-Plate Gran)

Pushing a baby round town is giving me a whole new insight into the way we (you, I don't do this) use bad language in the street. On several occasions I have had to TALK LOUDLY to Little G as some person has passed by us, swearing liberally while on their mobile. The last thing I need is for Big Ears the Baby to tell You must be mad to **** - off.

Little G is now sixteen months old, and has a wide vocabulary. She soaks up words and songs, often joining in conversations when a word occurs that she recognises. Thus the need to monitor and sometimes censor the language she is exposed to. I am adept at giving miscreants The Hard Stare.

However there is one word she has learned that You must be mad is NOT happy about. Little G has started saying 'Wor - ah' when she wants a drink. She has picked it up from somewhere and it seems to have stuck. Thus we are out and about in town, when this little voice pipes up from the buggy in fluent Estuary English: 'Wor - ah?'

Last week I decided to have a purge on the ubiquitous glottal stop. Whenever she asked for a drink, what she got was some WaTer. Carefully enunciated and in my best Home Counties accent. Thought I'd cracked it. But the best laid schemes of mice and gran gang aft aglay. Next day, we're on the bus going to Baby Rhyme Time, when the little voice suddenly pipes up hopefully:  'Wor - Tah?'

I still have so much to learn.

To be continued ...     ....