Wednesday, 24 June 2009

Does my bus look big in this?

Oh, the shame! What have we done? Produced a bus-spotter, that's what! In full and final proof of the power of genetics over learned behaviour, nature over nurture, Charlie has become obsessed by buses. He can't see one (and he sees them ages before anyone else, his bus-radar is so sharp) without pointing wildly and shouting loudly, "BIG BUS! BIG BUS!" Or rather, that's what he would shout if he was talking properly. But in the same way that yoghurt is somehow 'oggle-og' and sometimes 'oggle-oggle-oggle', a bus to Charlie isn't quite a bus, but comes out more like 'buh'. (For a fuller description of Charlie's language skills see this post - ed.) And therefore 'big bus' sounds like 'big buh'. And while that's quite close to the large multi-coloured, free-to-the-over-sixties form of public transport, it also sounds embarrassingly similar to something else, especially when following someone with more ample hindquarters, shall we say. More than once have irate heads turned sharply round to see the source of such an insult. More than once have I suddenly found something fascinating to look at on the floor as we walk past another innocently abused member of the public. What they think I'm teaching him, God knows. I'm expecting a visit from social services any time now. Meantime, I'd better do some remedial training. So, Charlie, for the last time:

Bums (big or otherwise)

And buses (courtesy

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