A Life in Thirty Posts – Post #3
For 30 days, I will be sharing random stories from each year of my life as the big three-oh looms. Consider it my way of coping.
The year was 1981.
I had yet to reach the full mastery of the English language that is so evident in this blog, so I waddled around the house inventing new words much to my parent's delight.
Especially my Dad's.
It's easy to forget our parents used to be our age and probably used to resort to the same juvenile humor we do now when hang out with our close friends.
For my Dad and his good friend, Larry, I provided hours of entertainment because my "tr" sound sounded more like an "f", and my p's sounded like b's.
So trolley would become "folley" and pears was turned into "bears."
But what tickled my Dad more than anything?
Telling me to call Larry a dump truck.
