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Combs: How to teach a child to speak English

How I taught my daughter an almost useless skill

By Britt Combs | The McDowell News

Published: June 23, 2009

It's no secret to anyone who knows me that I am wild about my young'n. I have a tiny little daughter who turned 2 this week. To celebrate the event, we had a big party with kin and friends visiting from all over North Carolina.

Lily being such a remarkable and fabulous child, we decided that a 24-hour shindig would not cut it. But she is not old and wise enough to handle the traditional "birthweek" celebration like we have for my wife. Thus, we settled for a three-day "birth-o-bration" of fun, feasts and gifts o' plenty. It was great.

There's only one thing I do well, and that's English grammar. I tend to ruin everything I touch, so a command of English will be my legacy to her.

I am already imparting my archaic, obsolete and utterly useless attitude about English to my toddler child. Case in point; I pointed out to her that this special day was in fact her third birthday.

"But, I ain't but 2," she objected.

"Yes," I said, "but on your first birthday, you were 0. That's the day you were born. Your birth-day, get it?"

A child will make you keenly aware of your own mortality, so I am constantly aware I may keel over at any moment. That makes it very important to me that I get all my zero-tolerance English peeves into her head as quickly as possible. She may not dig it now, but someday it'll come back to her and maybe save her during an important exam.

When my mother came to the party, Lily hopped up in her lap and said, "It's my third birthday."

Mom laughed at her. "No, sweetie, you're turning 2 today," she said.

"Precisely," said Lily, who likes to use a lot of her three syllable words for our guests.

Mom has no patience for back-talking children. "This kids got a good vocabulary," she said, "but she's even worse at math than you are."

My daughter's vocabulary is pretty dang good for such a young child. I have figured out that kids basically learn how to talk by listening in on the grown ups' conversations. The words and phrases you use around the house, those are the ones she will pick up.

When her mother and I interrupt a story to talk to one another, she says "please continue." Cute, huh? Or when I am doing her science lessons, she often will cry out, "Fascinating!" or "Serendipity!" or other important, vital words without which you can't properly talk about science.

I remember some commercial when I was a kid, in which the egghead kid said "indubitably" a lot. I have been making it a point to use that one whenever possible. It is my big hope right now to hear my 2 year old say "indubitably" in casual conversation.

There are a million things to love about having a child. I can honestly say I have enjoyed it. She is a better conversation piece than a dog. Complete strangers -- these perfectly intelligent, respectable, responsible adults – come walking up and babble inanities at us.

"Oooo-oshie wooshie wubsums wbooboo? Yesh her ish, yesh her ish!"

And Lily sort of grins this bemused expression at them, nodding politely. "Fascinating," she says.

A child's youth flies by quickly, though, a constant reminder of a parent's impending mortality. She is only just 2 and already our interests are diverging. Six months ago she was tickled to death to sit on my lap and watch the financials or some author on C-Span. Now all that is hopelessly square. Only "Blue's Clues" is hip enough for her now.

I think she is rapidly losing respect for her old wore-out daddy. I can't blame her. If some giant, ancient, wrinkled up, beer-reeking old freak sprawled on the floor next to me, babbling, "Fiduciary depreciation mortgage securitization fiat currency system," I would lose respect for him too.

It's kind of a bittersweet melancholy to think that every time my neighbors go out and vote for Democrats and Republicans they are pretty much guaranteeing my daughter and the rest of her generation a life desperate poverty and socialist despair. That's why I'm now teaching her to be a survivalist militia nut.

Reporter, raconteur, family man and militia nut Britt Combs writes for The McDowell News.