My children have a long, rich history of mangling the English Language. I blame Bug for much of this. At three years old, he decided that plain old Mom and Dad were boring. For at least the next year, I was known as Loshobino and Dad was Yazzibooboo. Don't ask me where those names came from. This is the child who had a teddy bear named Agzhoe. At the store, he talked about the ashacuterator (cashier) using the casterator (cash register). That is, when he wasn't loudly commenting about women with big chesties who graced the magazine covers by the checkout.
Our new to us car is a 2005 Hondaconda, thanks to T-rex. According to the Princess, our next door neighbor has a pet chicamaugua (chihuahua).
Handyman is fitting right in. He came in today and proudly announced, "I fixed T-rex's bike." Mr. Ham replied, "That's great!" Handyman continued, "Yeah, I found out what was wrong - he was missing two barbarians." (That would explain a lot) When Mr. Ham finished rolling on the floor, laughing, he was able to discern that Handyman really meant "ball bearings". I'm left with the mental image of my son riding down the road with two large, hairy men in Viking helmets hanging on the back. That would give the neighbors a shock!
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