Monday, June 24, 2013

Compound Jack William MacLeod

For those interested, compound words can best be summed up as follows:

They're two words, and you smoosh them together.
Stinky poop and chicken fingers are not compound words.
They are separate words. These words cannot be compounded.

For you non-believers, here's the video lecture by Jack William MacLeod.
Where he comes up with this shit, I'll never know.
Be warned though, the attention span of our professor is somewhat average.
Midway through the lecture, his attention gets diverted to a shiny trophy.
I totally get it. The intricacies of the English language are tedious at best.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Fuck volcanoes!

A while ago, my son gravely informed me that he knew how to spell a really bad word. It went something like this:

Me: What bad word, exactly?
Jack: It's so bad, I better not say it. I'll spell it.
Me: Fine.
Jack: F.U.C.K.
Me: Jack! That's horrible! Who taught you that?
Jack: I don't remember.
Me: I'm pretty sure you can remember who taught you that.
Jack: I don't. I really can't remember right now.
Me: Is there a contraband Rebus Reader floating around at recess?
Jack: What does that mean?
Me: Never mind. Well, I'm going to guess it was a kid at school, but you don't have to tell me. Just don't use that word, OK? And for the love of Christ, not in church or in front of Grandma.
Jack: What if someone asks me for my autograph? Can I use it then?
Me: Why the fuck would you sign your name F.U.C.K.? That doesn't even make any sense.
Jack: But it might make them laugh!
Me: *Speechless for at least 7 good comeback...* Yeah, it might. But I suggest you don't do it.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. I'm picking up the kids from daycare and my friend Wynter (who runs the daycare), hands me this letter. She tells me I should likely have a good look at it once I get home. Regrettably, she says, she didn't look at it really closely until days after it was done, however it was something I should probably look into.

Good Christ.

That follow-up conversation went something like this:

Me: Jack, I was wondering why you spelled out a bad word on a piece of paper.
Jack: No I didn't!
Me: Uhm, yes, I think you did. Look here. Fuck volcanoes!
Jack: *eyes welling with tears, bottom lip quivering like a beautiful bow*...But then it must have been in the book we were copying from! We read books and copy them out to practice our printing.
Me: The volcano book said this? The title was fuck volcanoes?
Jack: must have been! Hey, wait a minute...maybe it was a book for older adults and I shouldn't have been reading it.
Me: Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's it.
Jack: Is Wynter in trouble?
Me: Why would Wynter be in trouble?
Jack: For giving me that older adult book to read.
Me: Uhm, yeah. I'll talk to her.
Jack: Am I in trouble?
Me: No, Jack. I suspect I'm the one destined for a future filled with trouble.
Jack: Don't worry, Mommy. I'll help you out if you get in trouble.
Me: Thanks buddy. I'm sure lucky to have you.

Which reminds me, I should call the local library to rectify this obvious classification error, as evidenced in Jack's header labelled Kids 2. Clearly any book titled with such rage and judgment (FUCK VOLCANOES!) should be relegated to the older adults section.
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