Even though my dad was a college educated, well-read person he insisted on mis-pronouncing many words or leaving off the last few letters. Since his nickname was “The World’s Laziest Man,” I often said he was to lazy to finish an entire word.
As Dad aged, more and more of his friends developed Alk-himers, as he called it. No amount of discussion on my part could change his mind on it’s pronunciation. Eventually he’d say “A friend of mine has the-disease-you-say-I-say-wrong-but-I-know-I’m-saying-right.” And, of course, I knew exactly what he was talking about.
He had a very expensive set of hearing aids that he refused to wear. So, at restaurants, or pretty much every time he couldn’t hear, he’d look at me – roll his finger around in circles next to his ear, then point from the waitress to me and begin rolling again. This is usually the universal sign for ‘That Person Is Crazy,’ but in Crazie Language it meant, ‘I can’t hear what she’s saying. You listen and yell to me what she said.”
My Aunt Kathleen has a couple of interesting words in Crazie Language. “I’m going to the store to buy some more of that Lilac Pot-Porry and maybe I’ll stop at the market and pick up some tore-tillies.”
I’ve decided to put this blog on hold until after the holidays. So, as we say in Crazie Language: