Friday, May 6, 2011

Plee-Plops and Butlers

Plee-Plops.  I have on a pair right now.  I suppose you call them flip-flops.  My mother-in-law calls them thongs, but that only makes me think of underpants.  Mikias dubbed his flip-flops, plee-plops, his first summer home and has been calling them plee-plops ever since. That is until the other day. Mikias was getting dressed for school and asked if it was warm enough for flip-flops.  It was a good moment.  Surely he shouldn't continue to call them plee-plops.  But is was a sad moment too.  So many of the boys' unique words for things are disappearing. They are growing up and I really wish they wouldn't.

Some words however, have stuck around in spite of frequent corrections.  One such word is 'butler'. It is used for a couple different things. One being the proper use as in, "Mom, why do you make me pick up Jem's toys?  I am NOT his butler!"  The other use is 'butler' being used in place of the word  'builder'. I don't know where the confusion began, but both boys never fail to say butler when they mean builder. 

The elementary school in our town is in the midst of a huge addition and renovation.  When it first began the boys got off the bus so excited about the new construction. They were especially thrilled at  the fact that there are "so many butlers working hard to get the school built!"  Jem thinks there are probably "more butlers at the school than teachers!" (Can you believe it? Butlers at a public school!)   Every time they talk about the construction and all of the workers who are making it happen, I visualize a school being built by older gentlemen in tuxedos topped by hard hats.  One perhaps, holding out a silver serving tray of nails to be used by another tuxedo wearing gentleman with a hammer.  It cracks me up. 

So it was with a little sadness that I told Mikias that  I didn't think it was quite warm enough for flip-flops.  I didn't tell him that I missed him calling them plee-plops. It's time he got these thing right.  When he stepped outside to wait for the bus, he was kind of ticked at me.  He thought it was plenty warm enough.  

He glared at me and said "I could have worn flip-flops and short sleeves!"  

I looked at his arms pointedly.  I wanted him to realize that he indeed was wearing short sleeves. He looked at me and rolled his eyes.

"I know I am wearing a short sleeve shirt!  I mean short sleeve PANTS!"

Phew...looks like the fun isn't going to end just yet.


  1. Oh My Gosh. I love that kid! I'm going to start wearing short-sleeved pants.

    I know what you mean about them loosing their own private words for things. When my son was little he called socks "ga-gas." I have no idea where he got that from. It was so endearing. Yet, like all parents, we would continue to use the correct word whenever we talked about socks. The day he first said "socks" was so bittersweet. I miss ga-gas.

  2. When our daughter first came to live with us, she used all kinds of made up words for things (she was four at the time). Now she's six and those words are pretty much gone. Our three-year-old son has a few of his own and they always make me laugh.

  3. Love it! Sweet sweet boys. Short sleeve pants...that may be a keeper:) Bella called a, until just recently. My heart squeezed tight when she called it a computer the first time. I hope she never loses "misgot" or "be end" for forgot and the end.

  4. This is so sweet....My middle son turns eight tomorrow and loves Michael Jackson, but calls him jachael Mickson. I love it everytime.

  5. So happy to find you too, through COM's competition. I think our boys are sharing some parallel resistance techniques! Look forward to reading more.