My three-year-old son likes to add the ‘n’ sound to many of the words he uses. The other day he asked me for a pair of ‘soncks’.

“The word is ‘socks’,” I told him. No matter. He already had his shoes on and was out the door to play at the ‘parnk’.

Where does he get this nasal-honking sound? Is he part goose? His older brother speaks nasally, also, especially when he’s upset. He doesn’t add the ‘n’ sound to his words but he could give Steve Urkel a run for his money. It sounds like he’s pinching his nose the more upset he gets.

But, you get used to it, I suppose, and after awhile you don’t really hear the made up dialect your children speak. And then you start sounding just like them.

My husband went to ‘wornk’ the other day and ‘aynt’ the lunch I made for him and said it was ‘realny’ good. It sure makes me ‘feeln’ like I’m doing a good job when he compliments me like ‘thant’.

I mean it.

To add more silliness to the situation, this same child looks (and acts) like a leprechaun. Don’t try to correct him. His ears turn red and he hops up and down shaking his fist. So I asked him, “Where’s your ‘pont’ of gold?” Sometimes humor is lost on little ones.

Sometimes not. I woke up one morning recently to discover him by the side of my bed painting the brand new carpet black. “What are you doing?!”

“Painting!”

“I see that.” I reached for the brushes and I swear he jumped up, clicked his heels, and vanished in an instant.

Now, I’m not in the habit of waking up while in a full run down the hall. It really jostles the brain around. And USUALLY, the little twerp slips under the covers with me and we snooze together for a bit before starting the day.

So it took awhile to take it all in. He’d served himself breakfast and had already climbed back in his chair to finish his feast before I could catch up to him.

I suppose after the morning he’d had painting, he was very hungry. He had an apple with a ‘fornk’ in it that he held up proudly like a trophy. There were candy wrappers—evidence that he’d cleaned out Dad’s secret stash.

Upon further inspection I saw that he’d dressed himself, too. Shirt and pants on backward, ‘soncks’ twisted around. “Momma, can I have my big ‘trunck’ today?”

I should ‘starnt’ drinking ‘conffee’ in the morning—no make that the night before—so I can get up, stay up and keep up with this one.

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©Lisa Barker - Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, mother of five and author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane... Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Parent To Parent™. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit http://www.jellymom.com. Sign up for the complimentary Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT!