Lost in Translation

I have a pretty good life. No, I have an awesome life. HH is the love of my life and I am his. I have one child. Count 'em. One. Aaaaah. BUT. You all know what it's like to raise a child. Listening to their incessant droning. . I mean conversations. Answering their coutless meaningless. . I mean intriguing questions. About the minutea. . I mean the meaning of life.

My dad and his wife are visiting us from Korea. For 2 weeks. My dad is a robust 80, but his English skills are diminishing after 20 years back in Korea. And he has an accent. His wife doesn't speak English, but being an educated person can read and understand some. Boo, at 6 is yet unable to say his 'r's and has forgotten most of the little bit of Korean he used to know. My Scotch-Irish-Swiss-German HH knows about 15 Korean words.

So, in addition to my normal duties, I will be translating what Boo is saying to 'harabuji,' what 'harabuji' is saying to Boo, what 'halmunni' is saying to Boo, what Boo is saying to 'halmunni,' what 'halmunni' is saying to HH. . . .

Oooh my head hurts!


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