The other night I overheard the following discussion between the girls:
Lily - Look, Ella, a callipiller!
Ella - No Lily, it's "callipidder."
I wanted to cry and tell Ella she's never allowed to say the word any other way. She's already figured out the correct way to say binoculars. It used to be binoclears, which is how I still say it thanks to her. As big of a grammar geek as I am, I love the way little kids talk when left to their own devices. But I can't stand when they baby-talk on purpose. Ella and Matilda have been doing a lot of it lately, and it's driving me and Heidi nuts. The girls call it "silly language"; I call it annoying.
Speaking of callipidders, we have one residing in the house at the moment. Ella and Luke found him in the garden, and Ella put him in her bug box along with lots of leaves and twigs. I keep poking fresh food in to him. I'm living in fear that the thing will croak one night, and I'll be left to explain what happened. I think it's kind of not fair to the poor little fella to pull him out of his nice garden to cram him in a mesh-covered box with bits of leaves. His odds of survival are probably better in the wild.
But in the meantime, the girls are taking their jobs as callipidder sitters very seriously. Ella carries him around with her, and Lily popped out of bed several times last night to give us updates on his activities. "Now he's on the roof!" she said at one point.
I sure hope we get a butterfly out of this!