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I didn’t learn much from my grandmother. Well. Not true. I did learn that it is absolute nonsense to clean dishes before you put them in the dishwasher. But, other than that, I don’t have a bank of fond memories to fall back on when I think of her. She was, of course, from a different era … yet it wasn’t the generation gap that kept us from being close. It was our backgrounds, rooted in two very, very different upbringings. She was (literally) fresh off the boat from the “old world,” married at thirteen to a much older man, became a mother at fourteen, worked more hours in a day than I ever did in a week, scrubbed soiled clothes on a washboard (OK, maybe I’m confusing my memories with a Little House on the Prairie episode), and counted her money down to the very last coin. Me, on the other hand, I was born “somewhat” privileged and when I was fourteen, I concerned myself with nothing other than lip gloss and movie stars. And, until I was much older than fourteen, did not bother to balance my checking account (not a good trait, but true nonetheless).
BUT. She did teach me one thing (other than the aforementioned part about dirty dishes) that has served me well over the years. Not in everyday conversation mind you, but behind closed doors, under my breath I can mutter an entire paragraph of insults without anyone else having a clue about what I’m saying because my grandmother was a master linguist. Not only did she know a little Gaelic, and maybe some German, but she was fluent in Pig Latin. Fluent, I tell you! So, thanks to her, when a stranger cuts me off in line or just plain fries me because they’re eating chips too loud … I can tell them that they just might be the biggest idiot on the planet, and they won’t have a clue. Especially if I smile. Hell, if anything they’ll think I’m complimenting them in a foreign language, or that I’m crazy. Which doesn’t really surprise me—I mean am I the only person who knows this long forgotten language? Isn’t there someone out there, someone anywhere who knows Pig Latin? Anyone??
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Have you ever walked away from a discussion, wishing you could have disguised an insult as a compliment? OH, and if anyone cares, one day I plan to learn Italian. And then I would be able to speak Italian Pig Latin in Italian, and the world would be at my feet : ) Maybe I’ll start a club.
Today’s post inspired by The Daily Prompt: What was the best compliment you’ve ever received? Cover image created with Pexels’ free library and Word.
DISCLAIMER: These are my personal experiences and opinions. Nothing here is medical, nutritional, or therapeutic advice. Also, I’m a writer and an editor. And I try my best to make sure every post is articulate and free from errors. However, being that I edit my own work—and it’s next to impossible to properly edit your own work—I admit, occasionally there may be an error or two I miss. But doing so doesn’t make me an idiot so don’t be mean. Just smile, pat yourself on the back for finding an error and be glad you’re not the only one who makes mistakes sometimes … xoxox
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