Gurgle Talk

Distorting my words into a gurgle of sorts, I founded the language of “Gurgle Talk”. Though it crazed my sisters and mother, my father could imitate it, and so conversed freely in this dialect. Once, in response to Mother’s distaste for the voice, I responded, in Gurgle Talk, “Well I don’t like the way you talk.” Outraged at this gurgly backtalk, she sent me, shovel in hand, to dig a hole for her new plant. Having thus avoided certain death within our household, the plant blossoms yearly in reminder of the incident which by now would have been long forgotten.