Words...

My gramma always mispronounced words...Tylenol was tyrol, hysterectomy was hysterectoroutomy, for example.  My Dad has inherited this trait, as we again observed tonight.  After a nice dinner out (their favorite restaurant is Ninety-Nine so that's where we all went - yup!  The five of us and the parents), we came home to the heat.  We all popped out to sit on the front porch, even the dog.

Stoop sitting is a family tradition.  People just don't do it anymore, but we still do.  We live on a busy street, lots to see, and we can watch the sun go down.  No air conditioning except in Mom and Dad's room, so sitting outside makes more sense than rushing into the house.

Now our dog can occasionally get a bit aggressive, and we can tell when that's coming because his penis pops out just a bit.  As there were other people on the street, I wanted to be sure he was calm.  He was sitting on the stoop, and my Dad was on the stair right below, standing.
I said, "Dad, is the dog's penis popped out?"
Dad - "I'm not a pedofire."  Yes, that is NOT a typo.  He said "pedofire".
Mom - "It's PEDOPHILE."  Remember, Mom has Alzheimers...
Dad - "Yeah, that's what I said, PEDOFIRE."
Us - "That's not a word."
It went on like that for a bit, until Dad understood what we were saying.  We all gave it a shot - spelling it, saying it slowly...of course what got a bit lost with all of this is that looking at a dog's penis is really not even close to being a pedofire or a pedophile...
This is my world, people.

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