Gibberish, not Jibberish

After placing second with her downfall being the oh-so cruel but simple sounding word 'gibberish' -- this after the success of 'homonym' and 'onomatopoeia' -- April would not stop practicing and correcting and screaming.

Three days later and much to her mother's annoyance, her daughter simply refused to stop spelling.

"April, honey, you've got to stop this. It's not cute anymore. Honestly, it wasn't that cute to begin with. But now it's just annoying."

"Ay-en-en-oh-why-eye-en-gee."

"Sweetheart, you have to stop. It's not healthy. I'm sorry you lost. I'm sorry it was with such an awful word."

"Ay-doubleyou-eff-you-elle," replied her daughter.

(At age 11 April was still slightly too young to realize that "eff-you-elle" was dangerously close to "FU all" but her mother let it slide rather than give her child even more pronunciation ammunition.)

"But it wasn't your fault. You did so very well with the other words. And they were much harder words. But that word is tricky and it isn't spelled correctly at all. Your spelling of the word was much, much better. So let's just stop this nonsense and..."

"It's all your fault, Mommy! You and Daddy helped me study and you said I'd be great and I'd win and I was smart and you were wrong! You lied to me! You said I'd make you proud and that I'd show everyone, and you lied, you lied, you lied!"

"April, how were we to know they'd use a word like that? We couldn't know. Honey, that word..."

"Don't you say it! Don't you ever say it! I never want to hear that word again. It's a dumb word, a silly word. And it should be with a 'jay', and I checked and it can begin with a 'jay' and it's not fair!"

"I know, honey. But you know the rules and they use one dictionary and..."

"You lied to me and I hate that word and I'm smart and I hate you! I'm smarter than you and Daddy and everyone and I hateyou, hateyou, hateyou."

And all her mother could think was that she would give anything to go back in time and have April as a tiny baby when it was all coos and sounds and baby talk. Back when the world was all joyous gibberish and the spelling of a word wouldn't be the cause of a tantrum.

And she found herself smiling at the word 'tantrum' even as its personification exploded in front of her and she suddenly realized that it was contagious as she found herself silently spelling in her mind: 'Tee-ay-en-tee-are-you-em.' They had thought of the name Emily for their daughter but had gone with April instead and 'Are you Emme?" spells rum and although she didn't drink liquor very often, her daughter was certainly taking her to the point were a drink wasn't a horrible idea.

But at that point she made the mistake of smiling quietly to herself while her daughter's petulant fury continued and her quiet joy at that quiet memory was noticed by the angered child.

"You're laughing at me! You're smiling! You didn't help, you lied, you promised, and now you're just laughing at me!"

"April. Stop. I'm not smiling at you. I'm not laughing at you. That's ridiculous. I was remembering a time when you were born and we were thinking of calling you 'Emily' and I remember you when you were so very tiny and..."

"I am NOT ridiculous! Ridiculous: are-eye-dee-eye-see-you-elle-oh-you-ess! That's how you spell it! You probably don't even know how to spell it! I hate you!!"

And the spelling spree continued.