With immigrant families, one hears all the time about children translating for their non-English-speaking parents or grandparents. In our bilingual, bicultural household this paradigm doesn’t apply cuz I talk English real okay and my mother doesn’t live in the USA (that rhyme could be in a Violent Femmes song). But with two languages flying around all the time, and with three people (my wife and my two boys) developing their bilingual skills (my skills are on the decline on account of my tired, aging brain and having misplaced my Omega-3s), one should expect a certain amount of translation going on (i.e. me torturing my boys, drill sergeant style, when they use English words with me). Recently, I was sitting at the dinning room table,…

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