Northern Sole

Well, it has begun. Maia's inevitable slide from the rounded, long vowels of Southern England to the flatter, shorter sounds of the Northern tongue.

We were in the park last week, being prevented from getting any speed up on the slide by her wellie boots. I suggested she take them off, and try again. This produced the expected speed and 'whhhhheeeeee'. So successful, that she padded up the stairs in her pink and purple socks to go again.

I heard her chattering to herself, and as I tuned in, I heard it.

'My socks will get all mooky. Mooky mooky mooky socks'

Not mucky (or mah-ky, I suppose) but 'mooky'.

Next stop glass, grass, bath and looove. The transformation has begun.