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epitome of incomprehensibility
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I used to draw imaginary ones on the back of "congratulations slips" at Cedar_Christian_Academy. People would have elaborate names and ridiculous numbers of children.
About family and language, I wonder how many mothers I have to go back before my mother's tongue isn't my mother tongue. Not my mother, not my mother's mother. Mother's mother's mother's mother tongue? A tongue twister. I can barely make the sounds, except that "snow" sounds like "snack" (it is one for Shiloh).
My brother still cherishes the thought of becoming a Gaelic speaker. I think. I don't know his exact plans; he's fairly tight-lipped. But he laughs at my pronunciation. And he still climbs trees.
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