It’s amazing watching my two sons acquire language. It’s weird for me as their American accents are really coming through. Yikes. Darn it! And shoot! I would really prefer it if they spoke the Queen’s English, but what can you do? I try to teach them certain words and phrases.

‘Tristan, be a good chap and put this rubbish in the bin’, I say. 

‘Jolly good show young Oliver, be both a scholar and a poet and fetch your dad his newspaper from hither and bring it thither. Old bean. Henceforth and post haste. Chop chop.’ I urge to a perplexed looking Olly.

‘Whaaaaaaaayyyyyt’ he says, stretching out the middle of the word. 

In this house, it’s always ‘football’ and never ‘soccer’. I am sure this will become a source of confusion to them very soon. Also lads, please don’t get into the habit of saying ‘like’ every other word either ‘like’ a lot of people out here. ‘It’s kind of like..I’m so like..whatever…’ That really irks. The English language is a multi-faceted beast and there are many other words except ‘like’ so please use them.

I am always pleased after an extended trip to England and ‘mom’ becomes ‘mum’. Mummy, mummy – not mommy mommy. It’s music to my ears.

At two and half now, Oliver is really beginning to speak. He’s quite advanced as is normal for one with an older sibling so close in age. We are already beginning to converse. I look forward to a life time of conversations. It’s mind bending how fast they develop. Three years ago he was a foetus in the womb. Since then he’s learnt to talk, walk, laugh, cry, run, jump, sing, and shout. And the learning will never end.