Apparently the international language is not love. It is whine! Everyone understands whine. People in England--they understand whine. People in Germany--they understand whine. People in Timbuktu--they understand whine as well.
Why am I whining about whine?
Because this week I have been taking courses in it to become fluent. I have the most experienced instructors in whine I have ever seen. They have shown me the way to whine about anything. From lunch time offerings to others bodily functions. It has been most educational.
"Kids would you like to color?"
"Sure."
"ok, get the crayons and coloring books."
"Can we use messy paints, and markers, and scissors, and paste, and glitter, and sprinkles, and tape?"
"No. We are using crayons and coloring books."
"Ohhhhhhhh. Why?"
"Because I said so."
Then they get the coloring books. They begin to fight over the coloring books. Then that whine begins.
"She took my book."
"I want ittttttt!"
"Give it back, it's mine."
The voice goes up a couple octaves--I think she may become a soprano opera singer some day.
"ButIwantit. Iwasonlylookingcanicolorinit?"
Now no that is not really a typo--she talks that high pitched and fast.
"I guess we can all sit if we are going to whine over and fight over coloring books guys."
Whining ends.
I love them I do. But I think I have had enough whine--I am getting tipsy!
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