This past Father's day made me think about my dad and about how he cracks me up. A lot of what makes him funny is his boaterness: his inability to pronounce the letter 'v' or the letter "f"
Where is de bix? (Where is the vicks?)
I like de pig pie (I like fig newtons)
Can I get de pries ( Can I get fries? )
I like go to de bits (I want to go to the beach)
Are you going to papers? (Are you going to pay first?)
or the way he describes things in shapes and colors instead of it's proper English name
Dad: The round one
Me: What round one
Dad: The round green one to put on like that
::motions a squeezing motion over his food::
Oddly enough, most of the time I do know what he's referring to, even if his descriptions are vague. Having had to grow up with his vagueness all my life has made me in sync to his descriptive patterns and tendencies, thus allowing me to decipher what specific thing he is referring to. Ultimately, it was a matter of survival.
Me: oh you need a lime.
This ability to decipher his language, by default, has made me one of his few interpreters (the other person being my mom) It's kind of funny that he would need an interpreter, but while he does speak English, his English is so choppy and thickly accented that it has evolved into a totally different language that many find difficult to understand.
Me: He's asking you how are you.
Friend: Really? totally didn't get that. I'm doing good.
I'll admit, growing up I found it so annoyingly frustrating that he had a hard time describing things. Sometimes, I would pretend to not know what he was talking about just so he would figure it out himself in English what it was he was asking or telling me. After so many years, he still does it. But when I reflect upon all the conversations we've had and still have, it still is annoying, but I'm not as frustrated with it.
He has adapted some ways to ease his communication with people. For instance, my husband and I recently introduced him Chipotle and he has become obsessed with the vege burrito. For days he would rave about it.
Dad: What do you call dat one with begetables that we ate the oder day?.
Dad: you know.... de wrap one with da tomatoes... and da...mexican? it was good.
Me: ... Chicken burrito?
Dad: Yea.. dat one!! Das good.
At first, he was hesitant about going there by himself because he was self conscious about ordering and having difficulties communicating what he wanted in his burrito.To resolve this, he called me up and wrote down all the ingredients on a piece of paper to bring each time he went to Chipotle. Now, every time he wants a burrito, he goes there, hands the burrito maker the list of ingredients.. and ::Bam:: a burrito made just like the first time. I bet he would have me make lists for everything if he could so as to make communicating less difficult for him, but I don't see that happening.
lol, That guy... cracks me up.