November 12, 2008
"Can I have some wuter?"
"What did you say?" I snapped.
My daughter repeated her request and, as she did, I covered my hand in horror. There was no mistake; my five year-old was acquiring a Philly accent.
The seriousness of the matter justified a frantic phone call to my husband at work. He was not moved by request to hire a speech therapist, even when I told him that his daughter was turning into a Guido.
My husband enjoyed talking about the subject so much that he suggested that we brainstorm possible solutions to this serious problem over the phone. I proposed that all of our children wear earplugs in high risk places like the train station, the deli, and at school. Tim proposed that I find something more substantial to worry about.