Oh, the pasta billies

One of my favorite things about the dajamou is the way she talks. There are times when she's so eloquent and insightful, and has just the right words, and works so hard to be precise in conveying her ideas.

And then there are the other times. When she was still a baby, it was because her mouth wasn't mature enough to make the sounds. So strawberries were "bajees" and grapes were "bups" and Uncle Nikos was "Ah Rakis." Typical kid stuff.

But now, she's four and a half, and she is really quite well spoken and doesn't mumble as much as some other kids I've known. There is still, however, plenty of evidence that she is still developing her language skills. The Strip District, a fun shopping district in Pittsburgh where we go every coupld of weeks, is "The Strip De-Strip." She plays with her "Pocky Pollets." And we live in "Pixburgh", thank you very much.

Yesterday's was new though. She was carrying some of her dress-up jewelry in her pink butterfly net (she'd been on an Explore, and Found it in the Forest, you see) when she suddenly shifted gears and was pretending to be Miss Lori (from the PBS Kids morning shows), looking in her Purple Possibility Bag for what wonderful surprises might be inside. But it came out "Purstle Pasta Billy Bag."

Which sounds like a good name for a band. Or maybe an knock-off version of Spaghetti-O's.