Tie Dye Speak and Other Odd Susan Languages

 
My family knows it's best to communicate with me after I've sipped morning coffee. While there are days I wake without need of a caffeine surge, more often my words blur until the warm substance has awakened my soul. 

I like to think, as a writer, that I spend the rest of my day communicating with ease. But recent interaction with the men in my home has proved otherwise. 

Nathan and I sat at opposite ends of our kitchen table a few weeks ago while I spoke on the phone with Sam, working out scheduling issues.  Nathan told me to tell Sam something (I don't remember what) and I made my best attempt. He immediately replied, "That's not what  I said, Mother!"

Confused, I offered, "That's pretty much what you said."

Sam spoke in my ear, "Tell him I know what he means. I know what he said."

Again, I served as interpreter and immediately the voice in my ear responded, "That's not what I said, momma."

Quite stressed at this point, I encouraged the two of them to get on the phone together because I was obviously failing as the go between. 

When Nathan and I discussed the matter further, I found myself explaining, "It's like the two of you speak blue and I speak pink and green." Later on however, I realized they speak more black and white... while I speak tie dye. 

I don't mean to do it. I don't intend to twist their words, dunk them in color, and spew them out differently than they entered my brain. 

It happens quite naturally.  

And as I was coming to terms with my new language derivation, my brother called me two days ago and barked, "Is it true that you leave voice messages for Lily (my parents King Charles Cavalier) when mom and dad aren't home?"

"Well... sometimes. I don't want her to forget me."

"Mom says Lily listens to the messages," he continued, "But I don't believe it. She doesn't do that for anyone else. So do it now. You're on speaker. I want to see if she really pays attention to your voice."

I agreed to the challenge and indeed, when Lily heard my voice, she started looking for me.

 

Lily watching dog videos with me post surgery - notice the boot!

"Mark, don't you understand," I offered, "I speak dog. I took a class my senior year at Vandy."

OK... so that part's not true. But my dad believed it (for a few seconds last spring) when I offered the explanation as the reason why Lily barks so much when she sees me. The truth is, she likes me because I play light games with her. But when my sister threatened to blackmail me if I didn't own up, I finally let dad know his dog loves me because I do the forbidden. I add to her shadow neurosis by letting her run after lights.

So between my slightly British, Mary Poppins persona, my Lily love, and the colorful, tie-dye way I interpret what people say, I'll continue my life as a writer. 

There's got to be something good about tie-dye speak. Even if my boys are still trying to figure that out!

photo credit: KeliaStar via photopin cc