Ray took Owen for his first barber shop haircut on Monday. Ray's barber is Vietnamese, and had promised a free haircut for Owen.
Unfortunately, Owen is not yet as appreciative of a bargain as his mom is. He was okay with having his hair brushed, but when the scissors came out, he started crying and struggling. The barber was only able to get his bangs done.
I think he looks like Mr. Spock.
Anyways, during the visit, he got to hear a lot of Vietnamese, and at one point he looked at the action movie on the TV set in the barber shop and said, clear as a bell, a word in Vietnamese.
The barbers translated for Ray. They couldn't get over the fact that he knew the Vietnamese word for "gun."
Showing posts with label adventures in parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label adventures in parenting. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Owen's Americanization: Part 2 -- English Lessons
Yesterday, I took Owen to a birthday party, a joint celebration for two brothers, 2 and 6, born in Vietnam. Since 2-year-olds don't really have that big of a social circle, the guests were mostly friends of the 6-year-old. The parents had rented out an area museum, and there was plenty to do and see. Owen had a great time.
He also got an English lesson.
When it was pizza time I grabbed a seat at a table of 6-year-old boys and a few parents.
The boy next to me was making some kind of choking noise (imitating, as it turned out, a poisoned Chinese baby dying from tainted formula), and Owen started imitating him. The boy laughed, and then asked me what Owen's name was.
"Does he walk?" he continued.
"Yep -- he walks, runs, jumps, all that stuff," I said.
"Can he talk?"
"Yes," I explained, "But not much. He's only been in the U.S. for three months, so he's still learning English. He can say about 20 words."
The kid's dad piped in: "Hey, maybe you can teach him a new word today."
"Yes," I said. "That would be great. You can teach him a new word, and then he'll know 21 words!"
Without missing a beat, the kid said, "I've got a word to teach him: F*ck-duck."
Silence and a very careful (and difficult to maintain) non-reaction from me.
"What did you say?" the dad said.
"F*ck-duck."
I tried to be graceful. "Oh, he already knows how to say duck," I said. "That's one of his words. He just loves ducks."
"No," the kid corrected me, "F*CK-duck. F*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck !!!!"
Ahem.
Luckily, Owen wasn't really paying attention.
He also got an English lesson.
When it was pizza time I grabbed a seat at a table of 6-year-old boys and a few parents.
The boy next to me was making some kind of choking noise (imitating, as it turned out, a poisoned Chinese baby dying from tainted formula), and Owen started imitating him. The boy laughed, and then asked me what Owen's name was.
"Does he walk?" he continued.
"Yep -- he walks, runs, jumps, all that stuff," I said.
"Can he talk?"
"Yes," I explained, "But not much. He's only been in the U.S. for three months, so he's still learning English. He can say about 20 words."
The kid's dad piped in: "Hey, maybe you can teach him a new word today."
"Yes," I said. "That would be great. You can teach him a new word, and then he'll know 21 words!"
Without missing a beat, the kid said, "I've got a word to teach him: F*ck-duck."
Silence and a very careful (and difficult to maintain) non-reaction from me.
"What did you say?" the dad said.
"F*ck-duck."
I tried to be graceful. "Oh, he already knows how to say duck," I said. "That's one of his words. He just loves ducks."
"No," the kid corrected me, "F*CK-duck. F*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck !!!!"
Ahem.
Luckily, Owen wasn't really paying attention.
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