"Is her talking Spanich?"

Jack Everett was just over two years old, sitting on my lap while I was getting a pedicure one afternoon. He always loved going together. We'd sit on the "shaking chair" and he'd watch them wash my feet and paint my toenails while I read books to him, or gave him a snack. (Yes, I went because JACK enjoyed it so much. SAHM of the Year!) All three pedicure chairs were full. While I was reading to him, the technician painting my toenails started speaking in Vietnamese to her coworker one booth over.

Jack looks up from the book and says all loud, "What is her saying!?" I was all embarrassed. I said, "I am not sure, she is not talking to me. She is talking to her friend." The other patrons giggled a little. Of course, Jack does not take note of my soft, evasive tone and drop the subject. "What is her saying with those words?!!" I said, "Honey, I don't know. I am not sure what she is saying. She is not talking to us."

All ears are on us now. "Mommy, is her talking Spanich?" They all giggled and looked at me. I said, "Isn't it pretty? It's another language, called Vietnamese." The technician nods and says to him, "Yes, Vietnamese."

He looks at her matter-of-factly and says, "No, it was Spanich."