The other day Z and I were downstairs cleaning up the kitchen when Morgan, who had been banished to her room due to undesirable behavior, started talking to us from upstairs. On most days I have no problems understanding her toddler talk but today wasn't one of those days.
Morgan: Daddy! Whgty dfoilnbm wqqsa!
Me: What?!
Morgan: Whgty dfoilnbm wqqsa!
Me: Huh?
(I'm confused so I look to the 4 year-old for help).
Me: What'd she say?
Z: Um, let me see. WHAT'D YOU SAY MORGEE?!!
Morgan: Whgty dfoilnbm wqqsa!
Z: Oh. We're cleaning the kitchen and you were being bad.
Morgan: Bgh clqwaz vzz342 tlpaftq.
Z: Okay. Do you feel better now?
Morgan: Qcvploiurtge Fv.
Z: Okay.
Now I'm looking around for hidden cameras or something. Is this like one of those practical jokes the Huxtables used to play on Cliff?
Z: Mommy's working okay?
Morgan: Okay
(I understood that)
Z: Just watch Max and Ruby for a little while.
Morgan: Vlopti xawqsxzmort bwed?
Z: Yes.
Then I heard Morgan walk back to her room. So either I'm getting Punk'd or these girls are some kind of geniuses that created their own sibling language that only they can understand.
Me: What the... what was she saying?
Z: Oh silly daddy.
Me: What?
Z: I have no idea what she said. (continues cleaning like nothing happened).
#WooSaa
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