Friday 23 March 2007

I am Spartacus! (and so is my rabbit)

Years ago, when I was at University and my litte sisters were much younger, I used to take a certain malicious pleasure in making sure that when I visited them, I taught them whatever the latest piece of slang or jargon I had picked up (beacause, you know, a middle class white boy with bad hair, doing a degree in Photographic Science in a London academic institution is really out there, on the street keeping it real, down with the ghetto homeboys...not). There was nothing funnier, to my mind, than hearing a seven year old in Lion king pyjamas telling her father to 'take a chillpill, dude' when he tried to send her to bed. ( Do you see how hardcore and gangsta I was back then? I used phrases like 'chillpill'. That is just so wack.)
I clearly remember both my father and stepmother commenting that I wouldn't find it all funny when it was my own kids shouting inappropriate gibberish at me when I was a father myself. Of course, there is a flaw in this argument; it presupposes that I would grow up enough to ever find it unfunny. Sorry, that just hasn't happened.
Last night, Amelie was in the bath with her usual platoon of plastic Hello Kitty! figures, and was giving them all names. I suggested that they were all called Spartacus, and began reenacting the infamous 'I am Spartacus' film scene. This amused Amelie no end, and by the time she was ready for bed and her Mother came in with her bedtime milk, she was bouncing up and down and holding up each of her soft toys in turn, shouting "I am Spartacus!", ( change toy, change voice)"I am Spartacus", etc, etc
She was still doing it this morning, and it's still amusing me.
This isn't the first time I've tried to teach her important spoken mantras, though. One day Nini went out and left me to entertain her for the afternoon, and I suggested we play Nintendo - but only if she learnt by heart the all important value (to me, anyway, but it should be very clear by now what kind of sad ubergeek I am) that it's "gameplay, not graphics" that make a good videogame.
This led to the following exchange when Nini got home:
N: "Hello sweetheart, have you had a lovely time with Daddy"
A: "Yes, we played Intendo."
N: "Nintendo? That's nice..."
A: "Yes Mummy, we played Zelga. He has a horse and a bow and arrow"
N: "I see..."
A: "Mummy..."
N: "Yes?"
A: "It's all about gay play, mummy, not graphics"
(Short pause)
N: "......what?"
P: "She means gameplay. Gameplay, not graphics"
A: "Yes, gay play"
N: "And why would you teach her that?"
P: "It's important"
N: "It so is not. She's not even three."
A: "Gay play!"

Of course, I'm not repentant: I still find that funny too, when I'm kicked back and chillin in my crib. See? I still gots the chops (well, maybe not...)