Cockney Sliming Wrang…

I think the repercussions of the swift sale of our house are catching up with me.

I have furniture dyslexia.  That’s a really simple way to describe how I see things.  I adjust for my misplaced cushions and chairs by sketching what is before me so that I can re-create it.  Critical for when I am stage managing a show!

A worrisome manifestation of this harmless dyslexia has reared its pretty little head recently.  I am muddling my words…and worse…not catching myself.  The recipient of my side of the conversation looks at me with a question mark.  I repeat the gibberish, once, even twice, until I realise, in my rush to vocalise my words, they have tripped and tumbled over each other and fallen from my mouth out of sequence!

On talking to my friend about the nature of an acquaintance I suggested he was,

“Pen-hecked.”

“What?” she said.

“Pen-hecked,” I repeated more clearly, we were on a noisy train!

She still regarded me as if I was speaking rubbish, which I was of course.  Only in America would they believe it to be another English saying they’ve not heard before!  No such luck here!

I thought my words through and realised I meant,

“Hen-pecked!”

“Ah,” she said, “not at all!”

If I carry on with this verbal lark I’ll have my own version of cockney sliming wrang.

My poor tongue is rushing ahead of my brain as it tries to come to terms with what we no longer have at home.

My mother’s warning to “spink before I heak” is falling on eff dears I’m afraid!

Maybe I need a silent retreat to restore articulation.

 

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