It's a war. Be real. Admit it. This is war.
Not a battle, not a friendly rivalry, not an interesting anthropological experiment.
It is war.
And all you bilingual households know I'm telling the truth.
The war for whose language will Bilingual Baby speak.
Will he speak his mother's mother tongue or will she adopt her father's lingua franca?
So we speak and we read and we sing and we hope.
And after an interminable wait, Bilingual Baby begins to talk.
And we get a "Mama".
Which is a wonderful first word, but is it a harbinger of a particular language? Probably not.
And we get "Da-da", which is starting to look like more like one language than the other, but is not clear-cut victory.
And we will settle for no less than victory. After all, this is war.
And finally it comes.
The first "real word". The word that will settle this. End the war.
Pluto has a word and that word is...
Wait for it ...
Are you ready?
The Word that will end the War.
Pluto says ...
And she says it clearly.
No doubt what she's saying at all.
Proper pronunciation.
Proper intonation.
Pluto says "Ut-oh".
