Peter, Paul and WHO???

There are two words in the English language that I notoriously question…that is, I likely annoy their unsuspecting users by challenging what our society deems as perfectly acceptable usages. The first of these is the word "congratulations." In my vocabulary, congratulations is given in celebration of an accomplishment, usually an achievement of some weight, and a hard-fought victory. Congratulations on your graduation with honors! Congratulations on your victory in the election, or on the ball field. Even congratulations on potty training your puppy. But there are very common offerings of congratulations that confound me. Congratulations on your engagement, or your marriage! What does that mean? Is convincing a girl to tie the knot an accomplishment worthy of congratulations? "Hey, I can see that you've had trouble getting girls to like you, congratulations on overcoming that deficiency!" Or "Congratulations on successfully hiding all of your faults during the period of rose-colored twitterpation, way to go!" I don't think that's what people mean. Or maybe it is like the winning of a hard-fought competition, "Among all the other options available to her, she chose you. You're the winner! And she is your prize!" Hmmm…I don't think that's it either. The same goes for when a couple finds out they are going to have a baby. Someone recently came up to me and said, "I hear that congratulations are in order." To which I responded, "Uhhh…uhhh, sorry I don't know what to say. Yes, I did my part in the process, but I hardly feel that to be worthy of congratulations!" Likewise when Georgie Porgie makes his/her debut, I will likely be congratulated again…why? I have come to realize that what we English speakers actually mean in these cases is better stated by speakers of Amharic – "Inkwaan des alachu!" meaning, "Yea! What happiness you have!" or more naturally, "Wow, I'm happy for you!" And so, from now on, I've decided to stop annoying people with critique of these strange congratulatory expressions, but rather translate them silently in my head into Amharic.

The second word that I've notoriously criticized over the years is the word "cute." I have catalogued its usages in such a wide variety of contexts: cute kids, cute bugs, cute little old people, cute sweaters, cute shoes, cute sayings, cute annoying little quirks, and even a sickly donkey standing next to a gravel road was called cute. I've polled people far and wide to find out what cute means and have received a variety of answers. Some have said that it is anything that is miniature - Does that mean I can say, "Oh I stepped in a cute pile of…" or "The doctor said I have a cute tumor"? Others say that it is something pleasing to the eye – When an 18 month toddler says, "Tang yu fo kooky," is that pleasing to the eye? The best definition I've heard (and I think I credit it to my sister-in-law) has to be "cute means anything that makes me smile." This definition is wide enough to cover most, if not all uses of the word cute, but it unfortunately captures things that would certainly not be called cute – the photographer for our school yearbook,  Andrea's homemade pizza, and mention of Casa Bonita (a little family vacation advice: when at a Mexican restaurant, don't everybody pass your unwanted refried beans to one person, especially the day before a long car ride – not cute!).

As any of my Campus Life friends can tell you, TravisT Williamson, as a bachelor, didn't have the slightest clue about the word "cute." Or, rather, that he refused to learn, that is until he was introduced to two new teachers, Micah and Grace, who repeatedly drilled the concept home. Having boycotted the word, I soon found myself speechless in certain situations. The other night, Grace sparked up conversation over our dessert with her usual topic of interest, "Oh, Oh, ShaSha," she stated very seriously before plunging her spoon back into her ice cream. In the language of Grace, that means there are dogs (Oh, Oh) in the compost (koshasha is the Amharic word for garbage). For a month or two, Grace initiated this conversation out of the blue at least a couple times a day. Not that we needed to do anything about the dogs, it was just Grace's filler for a moment of silence (which is few and far between when you Yackey Doodle as a big brother). Now, if I had tried repeated striking up the same conversation over and over again using partial words and sound effects, it would be intolerably annoying. When Grace does it, its…well…I can't help but smile at its cuteness.

Micah has grown past the cute days of bread being "Minamina" and bird being "bidabida," but he still catches us off guard with his own cute moments. Earlier in this rainy season, before the toads have come out of their dry season hiding places, Micah kept himself pretty occupied by catching grasshoppers and crickets (used for feeding either to the chickens, or to himself). One day, he had caught three big crickets on our porch and, after incarcerating them in old strawberry cartons, he preceded to name them. "Hey daddy, these crickets are my pets, I gave them names," he declared with a big smile. "Oh yea, let me guess," I replied, "Sape, Sape and Sape." (Sape was last rainy season's overused name for his pets). "No, their names are Peter, Paul…and Stroganoff!" Andrea and I absolutely lost it! "Peter, Paul, and Stroganoff? What happened to Mary?" I asked between uncontrolled laughter. Sadly ignorant of the classics, Micah didn't see the humor in it, but instead responded with an entirely straight face, "Dad! Mary is a chicken! And besides, I like Stroganoff." Cute! It most definitely made me smile.