Smunderpants

My children have taken up a hobby lately of changing the starting sound in a word and replacing them with another one.    The title of this post is one example my son came up with last week.    I don’t know if it’s a language development stage or an indication of interest in words or letter sounds, but it’s been a regular happening from both my children lately.

My son is the leader in the sound-change game though, with my daughter being a happy follower, repeating whatever he comes up with.   It’s been a trick to explain sometimes when they’re being introduced to someone new or are meeting an adult or child they haven’t seen in a while and immediately call that person, “Peel” instead of “Neel.”   Papa was, I think, Momappa.   The children deliver these dramatic mispronunciations with such enthusiasm it’s as though they expect to be praised for coming up with an alternative to the person’s name.

I’ve noticed though that my son seems to take particular pride in coming up with alternative pronunciations to words they aren’t allowed to say (bathroom words) in inappropriate situations.   For instance, you might be called “smoopy pants” instead of what they know they’re not allowed to say.   I wonder if getting around word rules is how the whole thing got started?

The Big Boy Update:  My son was playing superheroes again the other day.   He told me he had the power of surfboards and his sister had the power of grapes.    This wasn’t the first time he’d enumerated the super powers they each had.   Two week prior he had told me on a ride to school how he had the power to fly, had super strength, could see in the dark and could shoot webs.   He then said  his sister had the power of throwing strawberries in the air.    It would appear she has lots of fruit-related skills in his mind.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter met a cat tonight.   She was very careful and cautious and the cat stayed put for her to approach him.   She reached out carefully and the cat sniffed her hand; she giggled.   She petted him on the head and neck gently and he rolled over; she laughed.   She put her face too close to him and he bopped her on the head to tell her to back off (which was done in a polite, non-claw, cat way.)  My daughter hid behind the chair to recoup and regroup, telling me she didn’t like that.   I told her the cat was telling her to give him more space.   She came back a little bit later to pet him again before we left.   As we were driving away, she called out, “bye cat.”