OVERHEARD

FROM OUR NEWEST KIDS THIS WEEK. MOST OF THEM MULTIPLE TIMES:

“Mommy and Daddy are Muzugu (white). Jake is Muzungu. TJ and Tyler is muzungu.”
“Yes, what are you?”
“Brown.”
“Yes. Mommy and Daddy love brown.”

“Zues is munene and not sileeka.” (our dog is big and loud)

“I want to go to America and go to school.”

“Daddy, you get soda and ice cream.”

“I want to go to America, sleep with Jake.”

“When we get home, it’s time for susu, showers and teeth and bed.”
“And stories and prayers and kissing and lips”.
“Yes.. you are right.”
[Nightly routine: Take off clothes. Go pee or poop or both- try and keep them from doing it at the same time in the same toilet. Stand in cold water in shower. Get soaped up. Go back into cold water to rinse off. Dry off with towel. Lotion up while attempting not to giggle. Get dressed for bed. Brush teeth. Pick one book each. Read the books with Mommy while trying not to get too silly again. Listen to them point out stuff in Lugandan to one another in the story while wondering what these two kids are saying. Hold hands and pray with Daddy. Kiss everybody. Chapstick. Bed. ]

“caca not coming” (I told you I wanted to poop, but now I’m sitting on the toilet and nothing is happening.)

“Daddy, don’t want film. Want ball.” (ie: let’s stop watching this movie after nap and go play ball outside.)

“Want puzzle.”

“Want tickle.”

“Want jangu” (I want you to say “yangoo” so I can run to you and you can pick me up and kiss me like crazy when I run to you on command like you asked)

“Want run”. (ie: let my hand go so I can run ahead of you… eventually to play jangu some more.)

“And me.” (the answer to anything my brother or sister just asked for and I want too.)

“Red for walking. Green for running.” (ie: Walk on the red bricks and red dirt covered asphalt roads. Run on the grass.)

“want to go for aeroplane”

“want my konfila” (I want my hat)

AND FROM THE MARKET YESTERDAY:

“Hey muzungu. I give you Obama price.” (because they are friends with him evidently)

“Hey muzungu. You take this one home too. I don’t want her.” (woman referring to her infant daughter who she probably struggles to feed and care for)

“We like these shoes. How much are they?” (sandals we found and had tried on our daughter)
“Let me see them…. 20,000” (about $10)
“Ha. That is too much. You are giving me muzungu prices. We paid 12,000 for these ones. We will pay you 12.”
“Long pause. How about 13?”
“12 or we go.”
“ok… 12.” (we are getting good at this bartering thing.)