My son Jamie doesn't speak English anymore.
Why, only this morning, he asked Peter to open the trunk and I looked around vaguely for a large sturdy chest such as my father might have taken away to boarding school.
Oh, you mean open the BOOT, Jamie? The boot. Opposite end of the car to the bonnet. BONNET, that is, not hood.
I was also advised to take long pants on a visit to the in-laws, in case it cooled down in the evening. Long pants to wear under my trousers? Do they sell those in Marks & Spencer where I get all my pants? I don't think so.
Jamie even said, with a cheeky grin in my direction, that he was just popping out to get some beer and would be back momentarily. By which he meant, 'in a very short time' NOT 'just for a moment' which is what momentarily REALLY means, actually, people of the world.
There will come a time when I need a dictionary in order to understand him, my own flesh and blood.
AND he drives on the wrong side of the road...