My little boy still has trouble saying some words. Last night, he said, “Larry is a goom-campuh.”
The only Larry we know is the green parrot that lives at the pet shop at the edge of our neighborhood.
“Larry is a goom-camper.”
I giggled. “What is a goom-camper?”
“A goomcamper. He’s green.”
“I don’t know what you mean. Try to say it in a different way.”
“LARRY IS A GOOMCAMPER!”
I laughed. “Yelling it doesn’t help. Explain it with different words.”
He laughed at me for not understanding.
“Larry was at the li-bary.”
“What? No. Larry’s at the pet store.”
“NO! Not Larry the parrot. Larry the goomcamper! At the li-bary!”
I kept laughing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Bob is red.”
“Bob is a red tomato, and Larry is a green goomcamper.”
Understanding dawned. He smiled when he saw me get it.
VeggieTales. Larry is a cucumber. And he and Bob were at the bookstore, like, a year ago.
So we practiced pronouncing “cucumber” until he got it.