My mother mixes up a number of English words.
Today, my parents came over for dinner. At the table, Zayd, our 9-year-old, told them that he is learning how to juggle.
Nana: So he is a gigolo?
My dad is sitting across from her, and as usual, offers no reaction. I stare at her wondering where to go from that point.
Me: Noooooo... He's a juggler.
Nana bursts out laughing. She looks at me and asks...
Nana: What is a gigolo then?
About 5 million thoughts dart through my brain in a matter of seconds... before I can respond.... my mother looks at my father and asks...
Nana: Do I know what a gigolo is?
Nana: I do? How do you know I know?
Papa: I know because I say it is so.
Paul: And then God spoke... and it was so...