Lost In Translation

Most of the time, Clari and I get on. But there are times when she really can be so impossible I feel like pulling my hair out.

These 'episodes' usually revolve around her impatience and the fact I can't understand her when she's wailing.

Don't get me wrong, she's very good at English for someone her age - even someone a lot older than her I'd say - but she's no where near perfect, and even when she's talking normally it can be hard to understand what she's trying to say. So when she's bawling her head off and trying to shout at me in English, it is impossible to understand.

Take the other day for example (Giorgio and Dominga were out again), she was annoyed that I asked her to do something and I heard her muttering under her breath, most likely something not nice, so I asked her what she said.

"It's a secret."
"What did you say Clari?"
"I'm not going to say to you because it's a secret."
"Was it something not nice?"
"I will only say to you if you tell me one of your secrets."
"But I don't really have any secrets."
"Everyone has secrets. You must have some."
"Ok, well, I guess I have some, but I don't really know."
"Say me one of your secrets and I'll say to you what I was saying."
"But I don't really have any secrets, Clari."
"YOU JUST SAID YOU DID. YOU LIED!"

And this was just the beginning. The argument continued on her part for another five minutes and I generally don't know what it was about, because I just couldn't understand what she was saying. She was getting more and more angry, and getting louder and louder (as if bawling at a higher pitch would suddenly make me understand better). I was getting more and more to the end of my tether because she just was not listening to anything I was saying.

After 10 minutes, I went downstairs to cool off and lay the table for lunch. I invited Clari to help me but she is lazy and she couldn't be bothered. After a glass of water and five minutes of reflection, I went back upstairs. Dominga had sent me a text saying they weren't going to be back for lunch so we should go right ahead and eat anyway.

Clari was in bed, and I told her we had to go and grab some lunch as her mum and dad weren't going to be back in time. She got out of bed, visibly still fuming a little and then started to cry because she told me she was cold. She still had her pyjamas on so I told her if she got dressed she would warm up.

But then she started to get angry about getting dressed. And about putting on slippers to warm up her feet. And then at her wardrobe because I took out a jumper that was apparently 'too hot'. Literally, there was no winning.

At this point I no longer have a clue what she's angry about. She's angry because she doesn't get dressed from her wardrobe, her clothes are downstairs (although she decided not to tell until a good ten minutes into the bawling). She's then angry because she didn't choose the pile of clothes on the arm of the sofa. Then she's angry because she did choose them. She's then angry when I speak to her, and she's angry when I don't speak to her.

Eventually, after another five minutes of me just not responding to what she's saying (I can't understand her anyway, it just comes out like: BAHHS-MNCHSGA-YOOOOODJAD-BLUUURR!! she calms down and we go to get some lunch.

"This is the time of the four you letted me get angry. I'm going to tell my dad you have letted me get angry four times."

It's hard not to smile at. Especially the things she gets angry about. I mean, let's face it, she got angry at me this time because she was cold. Gosh, me and my temperature controlling talents eh.

It feels like she's exploded lots more times than that. But I reckon four times in five weeks is pretty good really. Seeing as though she's a lazy impatient spoilt stubborn six year old and I'm, well, I'm English.