Me:Â I saw you playing with Fernanda; was it a bit hard since she only speaks Spanish?
Her:Â I speak Spanish.
Me: I see.
Her: But we spoke Polish. Fernanda and me speak Polish.
Me: Really?
Her: Yes, I speak a lot of languages. I speak French and English and Irish and Spanish and Polish and German and Greek and Dutch and Flemish and Italian and Tagalog and Flatten.
Me: Flatten?
Her: Yes, Flatten.
Me: Latin?
Her: Yes, Flatten.
Â
Later
Princess is frantically waving her hands in the air.
Me: What’s wrong sweetheart?
Her: There’s a fly and I’m afraid it’s going to pique the bejaysus out of me.
That’s English and French and Irish all in the same sentence.
Â
Later Still.
Princess holds out to me a freebie book of Dutch fairytales we have been given in the chemist with our prescription (the chemist guessed our linguistic group and missed): Read it to me while I do a poo. [I love this job].
Me: But I hardly speak any Dutch, sweetheart.
Her: Read it to me in English.
Me: But it’s in Dutch.
Her: But Daddy read it in French.
Me: But Daddy is able to translate fairy tales from Dutch to French on the hoof but I am not because I don’t really speak any Dutch.
Pause.
Her: I speak Dutch.
Me: OK, but you can’t read.
Her: You read it to me in Dutch.
Me: Er was eens een weduwe die twee docters had…
Her: Keep going.
Me: Are you enjoying this?
Her: Yes, I speak Dutch.
She gets her stubborn streak from her father.
