Recently my kids have both taken to asking me questions, waiting for my response and then telling me, "You don't get what I'm saying." Jake did this numerous times last week; Maddie returned home yesterday and this was the conversation before running errands this morning:
Maddie: What are you going to do if they don't take checks?
Me: I'll pay with a credit card
Maddie: Aaahhh...you don't get what I'm saying.
Now, maybe if I had a regret in life it would be that I didn't learn a second language fluently. I took three years of french in high school - I can tell you my name. I may even be able to tell you how to say "door" or "table". I took a semester of sign language in college. Again...I can tell you my name but I can't even tell you "door" or "table". If there's a language I could learn now, I think it would be Italian. Maybe I'll just look up how to tell you my name in it.
But, despite the fact that I didn't catch a hold of these beautiful languages, that lack of knowledge and time effort gave me the ability to grasp the English language pretty competently. So when my kids ask fairly straight-forward questions and I, in turn, respond with a fairly grade-level answer, then I would think it's not really me that isn't "getting it."
I just had to vent I guess. Merci.
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1 comment:
Good luck in that department if you figure that one out let me know.
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