Mommy Doesn’t Speak the Language

Mini-Me (a.k.a. the almost-three-year-old girl) has become increasingly interested in play food lately. This came about partly because of her introduction to the wonderful world of play kitchen accessories in the Sunday School room. Observing her baffled yet eager attempts to enter into the culinary world with the other preschoolers in the class inspired me to add a few pieces of play food to our already burgeoning toy collection.
Aside: Why oh why will a child who refuses to even touch lettuce, apples, or tomatoes gladly put play versions of said items in her mouth and proclaim “Yummmm deeeee-licious”?
This new interest led to a pretend session the other afternoon involving the kids’ shopping cart, a bunch of play food, and the living-room-as-grocery-store while the baby napped. MM was delighted: Mommy’s undivided attention! Pushing the shopping cart around! Putting baby dolls in the seat! Adding items to the cart! (Mommy wondered why play grocery is so much more enjoyable than real grocery…oh yeah. No need for actual money and a crowd-free shopping encounter, for starters.)
With two baby dolls set up in the seat portion of the shopping cart, perhaps I should have realized that MM would perceive the cart to be a stroller and would also decide that I needed to verify/confirm/applaud/celebrate her perception. However, her increasingly insistent attempts to convey this information were incomprehensible to me. Why, dear reader?
Because she chose to tell me in French.
And I had no idea what the child was talking about.
Mini-Me: Poussette.
Clueless Mommy: What? Yes, your babies are in the shopping cart. Push it over here and let’s find an apple!
MM: (annoyed) Poussette!
CM: Porch-ette? Pose- tet? What?
MM: (anxious) Poussette! Poussette! Poussette!
CM: Uhhh…
At last, Mini-Me changed tactics and told me the word for “stroller” in Spanish. I finally got what she had been trying to communicate. After a quick internet search for the French translation of “stroller,” I realized that’s what she had been trying to tell me all along. (Quick interjection – lest you think Chez Growing Up / Reading is some kind of intellectual kiddie nirvana, be advised that the child picked all of this up from bilingual books, cards, and DVDs with no skill on my part other than opening a box, pressing the play button, or turning a page. Oh, and taking off my socks so she can count my toes in English, Spanish, and French.)
The pathetic thing about my inability to recognize “poussette”?
Mommy. Took. AP. French.
Yes.
Note to self: When you don’t know what your kid is trying to tell you, consider translation possibilities. So far, we have three languages to choose from…probably enough for now. I need time to catch up. Tutoring offers, anyone?

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