I’m sure our doctor friends discuss medical terms over roast beef and our teacher friends discuss classroom behaviour issues when sipping steaming soup. In our big yellow house, we talk writing. And drawing. And movie making.
We are a creative home where all artistic endeavours are supported and nurtured, even to the detriment of the state of our house. (Please see Exhibit A - my blog, Move Over Mr. Speilberg, to understand my aversion to glitter.)
Recently my Sarah wrote a book based on her sister’s babyhood sleep issues. She insisted I take it to my writing group, The Anitas, and read it to them. I was under strict instruction not to tell them she asked me to do so. Sarah also asked when I thought I could get it published.
She suggested, "A month, maybe two?"
Ah, if publication was only so simple, youngest grasshopper.
So the other night, while slurping our spaghetti, we discussed words that are pronounced the same, but have different meanings. For instance, “right” as in correct and “write” as in what I like to do when not sleeping. Through our supper, we progressed through dozens of words, thinking ourselves highly intelligent and incredibly humorous.
During dessert, Emma’s eyes grew wide. I was sure she would have the best word of the evening.
“Hey," she shouted, eyes a’ sparklin’, “Are these, like, homophobes?”
Ah, eldest grasshopper, you have taught the teacher. We Carmichaels are not as smart as we thought. You brought our egos down to earth and made us revisit basic grammar rules - and doesn't that sound fun?
Next dinner discussion – homophones v.s. homophobes – one is fun word play, the other never funny. Compare and contrast.
Any takers? We have a table that sits 12 - almost comfortably!