Today Diana graduates from 8th grade, something that part of me scoffs at, uncomfortable as I am with the whole prospect of ritual and pomp. The other part of me, of course, is having feelings. Lots and lots of feelings. And I am proud too—did I forget to say proud?
Truly, surviving middle school (why did we stop calling it junior high, does anyone know?) is something we should have a parade for, if I'm being honest.
This is all connected, really, with what I meant to write about when I sat down today: awesome, readerly mispronunciations. All those readers who blithely believe there is such a name as Pen-uh-lope, or want to reach the eh-pi-tome. (Yikes, phonetics. I had no idea that this would be so hard to transcribe. Truly, it should be a pod-cast, audio-centric as it is.)
Diana's first humdinger of a confusing mispronunciation was, "But that was before the Kai-ville war." It took us an embarrassingly long time, along with a realization that she was reading Addie: An American Girl, before we realized that she meant Civil. Since then, they've gone on and on, as they do with all heavy readers. They're different (in my biased mind) from adorable baby-accent things like, "Spasgetti," because of the deep conviction that you're just saying something the way it sounds in your head. Certainly, I still cannot read Penelope without first mispronouncing it internally. Ditto epitome. And no doubt there are words I still blithely mispronounce because I have never heard them spoken. I have grave doubts about ebulliant.
But Diana has now scrubbed (with my input, it must be admitted): PRO-phesy, A-cid, Kai-ville. The list goes on and on, and it's only today, when I am weak with this mawkish wash of emotion that I want to say, "Wait! Maybe it should be PRO-phesy! Hold on!" But it's too late.
Congrats to all graduates out there, and weepy parents, and readers, one and all.