Our eldest is blessed with linguistic skills. She delights in smiling at people she encounters and greeting them with a Ciao or a Buon Giorno. If she catches the words 'princepessa' or 'bella' in the reply her day is made. She wanders round singing 'Twinkle Twinkle Piccolo Stella' to herself after a local described her as one.
She chatters away to no one in particular with the four Italian words she knows interspersed with complete and utter nonsense.
It's all very sweet. For about a day. Then the torrent of nonsense from our own living spam generator begins to fray nerves. Then pluck every last one of them out using superheated tweezers tipped with acid. For your information Maddie:
Oglicanda is not Italian for jumper.
Tingola is not Italian for 'We are going to a little town'.
Bottaw is not Italian for 'Mummy'.
Buccola is not Italian for 'jacket'.
Galla is not Italian for shell.
Stingola is not Italian for 'It's raining'.
Sample conversation:
Parent: Maddie, where is your coat?
Maddie (pleasantly): La boosh galeesia flim flam chocolada bottaw?
Parent: Maddie, stop talking Italian, where is your coat?
Maddie (indignantly): Bawchawm bellisimo gala!
Parent: Maddie, stop that nonsense. Where is your coat??
Maddie (hands now on hips): Lasham flim flam debella si undera the vana laboosh!!
Parent: WILL YOU JUST SPEAK ENGLISH YOU PAIN IN THE NECK!!
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