It’s happened. Despite my best efforts, my son has a local accent. He says “wooder” for water, “oo-un” for on, and “goo-un” for gone. And, oh, it hurts me.

I mean, it’s not the prettiest accent in the world, but that is not the problem. The problem is that I now need to come to terms with his separateness. Don’t get me wrong: this is a good thing. He is his own person and the sooner I really integrate that knowledge, the better for the both of us, but I can’t pretend it’s not kind of painful.

I’m a Red Sox fan. A Pats fan. I say “wicked awesome” and although I have mostly lost my hardcore Boston accent, I can pull it out with ease. I can spot a bad one (Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting, anyone?) and an authentic one (Marky Mark in The Fighter.) And even though I have lived here in Philly for seven years, I have Boston in my bones. But…my kid doesn’t. I was born and bred in Boston, but my kid wasn’t.

His Sox cap still fits this year, so I am spared a complete surrender, but next summer, I think he’ll be sporting red on his head.


3 thoughts on “Goo-un.

  1. I really feel you here, but I bring good tidings of joy. My kids are born and bred Oregonians and, indeed, have the accent (or lack thereof) but they have always found identity in their Boston roots. They even FEEL Bostonian to some degree. They don’t visit back there nearl as often as The Who does, and they still feel strong connection.

    I always thought I would move back home but I realize now that it is unlikely. My kids call food “FEWD” and they might end up referring to having their “Fillings” hurt (not in their teeth)… but they are second generation Bostonians and feel it.

    Cuzzy S

  2. My son goes to a daycare run by “locals.” He’s begun to speak with a local accent–not using “r”s, etc. We hate it. “Max,” we say, “it’s PARK, not PAHK.” He just laughs. Then my husband mutters something about how we have to get him out of there.

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