My Very Own Language

As a toddler I had no need for the English language. I had my very own way of expressing myself. My sisters could translate some of it by using pictures. I would say something and they would get out various  books and when I spoke they pointed to things until I nodded.

 

I was meant to be an Olympian

An example; I once informed them that there was,”A howashay bin da cowashay”. After pointing in several books and my tantrums (they weren’t very good at it) we took a walk around the farm until they finally understood. “There was an elephant in the cowshed”. I was the only one who could see said elephant and much had to be taken on trust. 🙂

One day an electrician came to do some work and so I assisted him, fresh meat 🙂 I chatted away to him and filled him in on all the farm gossip, probably about animals or what my imaginary friends and I had been doing and I most likely told him about the elephant in the cowshed incident. Upon leaving he posed a question to my mother.

“Nice kid, when’s he going back?”

“Back where?” asked mum

“To France, he is French isn’t he?”

“No! He’s my son.” Picking up on my mum’s tone the electrician probably decided not to pursue the conversation and left.

Let me set the scene a three year old boy on a farm all day by himself (and you thought Forest Gump was strange) Your parents are in their forties and you have two older sisters. One of them relishes pinning you to the floor and licking your face or tickling you until you pee your pants. The other one listens to Rock’n’Roll, jives with you and tells you that Elvis is really God.

 

Me on the right and her on the left. Centre is my other sister

Your role model is a pretend friend called Johnny (cool name) and you have a pretend girlfriend called June (birthday month). You also have a horse called Red (no idea). June is quite lovely but always being kidnapped by red indians  Native Americans who tie her to a tree. Most of your day is spent sneaking into the enemy camp and releasing June, getting nettled, tying dock leaves to your legs (eases the sting) and inventing things that don’t work. The Native Americans only speak Sioux or Crow, June and Johnny only speak via you; whereas you, at three-year-old don’t have anyone to talk to.

And they wonder why I had my own language.