Overheard in… my house.

I don’t know how many of you have read the book or perused the website Overheard in New York, but I think it’s great. Real people, making completely strange and often astronomically incorrect statements about life and the world. Sometimes, I wonder what overheard in my house would look like as a book.

For one thing, there’d be lots of creative swearing. While “oh, poopy” really doesn’t feel the same as saying shit, it has to be. The parrot, er, Julia would glom onto any word I exclaimed, so I avoid it.

There’d also be lots of poopy talk. When you have a kid, all you talk about is excrement and eating, combined with the word “no”.

Finally, there would be all the misinterpretations of baby speak. For instance, Julia was trying to get a toy out of her toy box earlier today, and she kept repeating “I suck”. Or at least, that’s what I heard. Wondering in my head if I’d said this around her (I try not to be as self deprecating as usual around Julia) I then realized she was saying “It’s stuck” with a toddler accent. Still hilarious.

There are more, many more things that could be overheard and reported, especially in the car where Stephen and I tend to have the most philosophical, religious and disgusting conversations about dismemberment. Those I’m not going to quote, you’ll just have to imagine for yourself.

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1 Comment

  1. I wrote the following as part of a project I did for the late Peter Aschoff when I took his Blues Anthropology course at the U of MS eleven summers ago. Your post made me think of it for the first time in a very long while. Thanks for that.
    *****

    Overheard in a Beale Street Nightclub

    white girl singin’
    Blues
    this I gotta see

    who she think
    listen?

    she white
    but she feel…

    white outside
    black in
    where it matter

    *****

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