"Sit down here." I patted the chair across from mine, a clipboard and pencil in my lap.
My son eyed me suspiciously and sat down. I began writing on the clipboard with it tilted away from him. I had come up with some awesome Middle English based names for my Labyrinth Lord campaign. I just wanted to run them by my son to make sure they sounded okay.
"Why are you hiding that piece of paper?"
The boy is always to the point. "I want to see what you think of a some words. They are names for places that I've made up, and I want to see what you think. I'll read them out loud."
"Oh. Okay."
"Great. The first one is Aloftgres."
He tilted his head and made a 'thinking' face. "Interesting," he said as he taped his lip.
Great. He's posing and I don't even have a camera out.
"The second one is Duskenfaunt."
"Sound like something you do while on the toilet."
That one took me aback. Duskenfaunt was a fine name. A really good name. What did that even mean - something you do on the toilet? How dare he insult my word.
"What are you writing on the paper?" he asked.
"I'm writing what you said."
"Why?"
"Because I care what you think," chuckling at myself and my word vanity.
"Oh," he smiled.
"Dweryen Doun."
He thought for a moment. "Cool."
"Ernslak,"
"Sounds like an insult for lazy people."
I'm not sure how long I kept my mouth open. "Um, okay. Yeah, I guess so. Interesting. The next is Nyrvylrem"
He laughed. "Nervilrim . . . it's funny."
"Hethwalle."
"Cool."
"Senginbergh"
"That's weird"
"Senginerd"
"Next"
I raised an eyebrow, just like Spock. Well, just like Spock in my mind. My eyebrows don't do that willingly. He wasn't smiling. It was a complete and utter diss of the word. Wow.
"Vathloof"
"Bless you,"
Okay, so he's a smart-ass, just like me.
"Lefdikuss." The minute the word left my mouth, I realized I had made a horrible, horrible mistake.
"Are there two? Is there a right one? Left? Dick? Left? Dick? Huh? Huh?" he guffawed.
Oh dear god. I can't believe it. I even put this up on the blog. I blame you people. I had no idea. You should have warned me. You saw it. You knew. You set me up. On purpose!
I suddenly realized I was in a Monty Python skit. After he calmed down, we moved on.
"Fultum."
"Cool."
"Rotenslade."
He chuckled. "That's funny. Rotten."
"Failham"
"Sounds like an epically failing ham."
"Flumrys Brig."
He smiled, "Sounds like the name of a ship."
"Gobelyntur."
"Sounds like a goblin giving a tour. Or! Or a tour inside of a filthy goblin!"
I tried to wipe the image of goblin intestines from my mind. "Kyndrecchen"
"Interesting," he nodded.
There was one last name. All I can say is, never say this word in front of my son. Ever.
"Pricketholt."
I mean it. I have witnesses who will concur.
You have been warned.
- Ark