Those Little Tongues

The woman who scours my house twice a week has a name that is not easy to say for us English speakers. (Let's refer to her as Mrs. H.) I knew how to say it because my Spanish language instructor in college made his students remember a sentence, El burro sabe mas que tu. The translation is "The burro knows more than you," but the real reason to know the sentence is to remember how the vowel sounds are made. This is important in the south because mas will come out as mass, and that's just not right.

What does this have to do with Inwe? Well, she had to change her clothes due to an applesauce explosion, and Mrs. H was upstairs. Inwe paused at the bottom of the stairs to ask, "What's her name again?" I told her, and Inwe popped up the stairs to change her clothes.

When I went upstairs a little later, Mrs. H made some comments to me about Inwe. The first was, "She has a great vocabulary." Oh, I glowed over that one. She does. Inwe really does. For example, one of her Barbies was petrified today. She actually used that word. I love it. I'm so proud. And, yes, I know that pride comes before a fall. (When I do fall it will be very, very far.)

The second comment was, "She says my name so clearly. She doesn't even have an accent." After three years of Latin, two years of French, and three semesters of Spanish, I cannot actually speak a second language. I understand words from many languages, but don't make me speak it. I would be quite happy if Inwe, Larien, and Finwe would actually be able to converse in another language.