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And He Shall Be Called ... What?

It seems my daughter has been reading my blog. You know kids… so tech savvy these days. Give her a tablet and she’s all, “I’m just browsing the blogosphere, mom.” Something like that…

But seriously, about a day after I wrote this post about how she kept referring to Billy as “Daddy,” she all but completely eliminated that word from her vocabulary. And then she said to herself, “Okay, mom. You want me to call him something Spanish. Here we go!”

Papi.

She seems to have settled on Papi.

What’s funny about this to me is the fact that we are in predominately English environment pretty much all of the time. And, well… thanks to rap music, “Papi” just seems to make folks a little uncomfortable.

First of all, they think she’s saying puppy. “Is there a puppy?” they ask, looking around with confusion.

“Where’s Papi?” she asks again. They look at her, uncertain.

Then I have to jump in with responses like, “Papi is outside.” I would love to say instead, "Billy is outside"... but that just seems weird, too.

Other times, people have realized exactly what she’s saying. She’ll point to me. “Mama.” “Mama!” they repeat with glee. Then she points at Billy. “Papi.” Silence. (Or once there was giggles.) They don’t know what to say. Or they simply respond, “Daddy!” Mostly, I try to pretend like I don’t notice what’s going on.

So there you go. I’m delighted that she has started calling Billy by a Spanish name. I may have underestimated how uncomfortable it would make me in social settings. Ah, parenthood…

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