as soon as possible to try to integrate civil society in Canada, last Tuesday I accepted the invitation of a neighbor to participate in one of those projects aimed at involving the city's recreational and cultural activities in the mothers with tots, or diaper the children with an age range of between eleven months and two and a half years, for obvious reasons, wander that way so disturbing as to be in constant apprehension even the most 'relaxed parents . In Italian, I do not think there is a fee. If there would probably be "patatelli. I know round and plump, a duck and falls continuously. (Since we are in a semi-democracy - remember, the blog is mine-you can choose better.)
However, the experience was highly positive, relaxing and educational. More for me than for Maia.
When I'm not going to dwell too much in the description of the beautiful surroundings, the cushions on the floor, plush carpet, computers with keyboards for children and perhaps the grandparents of the children (with buttons and huge tinted), or than it was reassuring for me to see my baby interact with other children with the spontaneity begins to leave around 11 years. Everything seemed perfect, everything seemed unreal.
At one point, with punctuality baffling, here comes a girl from the serene gaze and gestures funny (especially for someone like me who has behind him years of the post office queue Partanna Mondello) and with a silent "hellooooo" (I still have to get used to the fact that here do not cry no one except my son, my husband and children of the nearby Indian) has successfully attracted the attention of all patatelli. This is the first
minilibro, second, third. The problem is the successor to the songs of the moment: while all these tots are sure that their mothers cheered them would somehow help to sing or dance, the little Maia and I stared waiting either take the initiative.
If the problem was soon passed in front of Quail songs: "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" or better yet, "If You Are Happy" when the worst came to sing "In the old farm."
Many of you already know that in the Anglophone version is the factor to be old and not the farm. However, the problem was not even represented by this, since my little girl knew neither one nor the other version. Trying to join the chorus of mothers as not to disfigure my little patatella, at some point I decided to sing well I the famous notes. From my
"Ia ia oooooooo" hints at the Italian origin compared to most Canadian "Eee - eye - eee - eye-or," but this is nothing if you have the kindness or curiosity necessary to continue to read.
Old McDonald had a cow that was moo-moo ... and again so I went well except for a slight deflection of Sicily, my daughter could be proud of his mother.
From the arrival of the pig started my problems and my eyes have witnessed the virtual collapse of these pillars of knowledge cheogni individual carries with it since kindergarten. Absolutely uninhibited, in the grip of the enthusiasm to be successful after years of strange shyness to sing in public, I wanted to surprise the spectators with a growl worthy of the most famous fair of the pig. One of those nasal passages so that they meet halfway in his throat causing that annoying itch that less than ten liters of water level out.
The effect was that of a dry thud during a piano concert. What the fuck is that? That would be a grunt? Yes! Pigs Anglophones say OINK! (Read right!)
The same Maia looked at me puzzled seeking an explanation that I was not able to offer. I have very limited to lower the decibels of my voice again leaving room for the timid singing that lives in me. Fortunately.
In order:
• The cow is MOO (muu)
• The pig is OINK (oink)
• The sheep is BAA (ba)
• The hen cluck cluck (Clo)
• The horse is NEIGE
• The dog does BARK
• The donkey is HI-HO (thankfully)
• The rooster is COCK A DOO DOO ROO (coccadurudu)
At this point we would ask: " And the alligator? The crocodile as he does? "Fortunately, even in Canada, there is someone who knows.
0 comments:
Post a Comment