Kynnadi, now four, is trying so hard to pronounce words correctly. One of the most difficult sounds for her to get is the letter F. So when she came to tell me that Obbie (the name she’s given my grandson, Xavier), burped in her “tace,” I corrected her. I exaggerated my top teeth going out to my bottom lip and said emphatically, “Face.”
So, she got her teeth to meet her lip and said, so proudly, “Fobbie furp fin fy face!”
We weren’t on the waiting list for speech therapy long, just enough to make me sweat about enrolling her in preschool for fall. Kids can be cruel. Even if they aren’t, and just keep responding with, “Huh?!” when Kynnadi speaks, it embarrasses and frustrates her something awful. She finally just shrugs, face fallen, and looks to me to interpret.
With one session under our belts, I feel confident that we’re heading in the right direction. She strutted out afterward teeling tine. I mean, Fhe frutted fout fafterward feeling fine.