When the kids got home from school today, Xavier darted into the bathroom to wash his hands as he usually does (Mom's rule.) As he emerged, he said, "I didn't wash my hands in the bathroom, Mom -- I washed them in the 'flue'."
"What?" I asked, wondering if he meant "flue" or "flu". Neither made sense.
"The 'flue', Mom. I washed my hands in the 'flue'."
Seeing I still didn't get it, he said, exasperated, "You know, Mom -- like they say in New England. You know, the place where they call policemen 'bobbies.'"
"They call it a 'loo', Xav, not a 'flue'." I didn't tell him this was slang in OLD England -- I figured it was enough upheaval of his world order in one day.
Of course, at supper he was telling his dad how they call cake sprinkles "dozens of thousands" in New England. Maybe I would be doing him a favor to let him know ... and maybe to google that term to see if he had it right.
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