A New Kind of Language

Yesterday, as I was doing the dishes, my son came up to me and started making funny sounds:  "Vrooom, brrrrrm,brmmm, vroommmmmmm!"

I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. "Bubba, I can't understand a word you're saying."

"Brrmmmmmm, Barooooommmm, Vroooommmmm!"

I shook my head. "Dude, if you want to have a conversation with me, you need to speak a coherent language."

"But, Mama, I am speaking a language. It's motorcycle!"

Oh. Of course.