Of late Reid has taken to announcing his entrance into the room by making an avian sort of barking noise. It reminds me of Burgess Meredith's vocalization during his turn as the Penguin in the 1960's Batman series. So I call it his penguin noise. Reid calls it ganching. Which really is a word. Describing a horrible fall to one's death as you are impaled upon sharp sticks and pikes. It also means to speak in a halting, agitated way. Let's go with the second meaning. For many reasons. So. This morning. I'm drinking my coffee, working on the crossword. I'm softly serenaded with Christmas music by those hot Celtic Thunder guys. Reid enters, ganches, and describes to me in great detail a video game concept involving the elaborate and intricate lives of penguins.
me: That is some serious anthropomorphlphlphlphl. Zing.
me: That's a diffdiff awk. Whatever. Word.
Reid: It's an awk-word.
me: Indeed. It is.
An hour and a half later...Now that he's read this post, Reid informs me that he was not talking about a video game concept. After an especially deep ganch, he said, that was a really big penguin, so like if you go down to the South Pole, he'd be the bouncer at the Penguin Club. All the other penguins would be inside the club making their mediumhigh ganching noises, but the one with the really deep ganch would be the bouncer. I stand corrected. I'm such a good mother. I hang on every word my son says to me.
Also, in the previous paragraph, when I refer to ganching, that is actually Reid making the noise. Thank you.