What?!?

Friday afternoon Hannah and her friend Alessio walked in the door.  When Hannah saw me, she started moving her arms quickly and talking in rapid Italian, "Mio papa... detto...ma....gelato...dopo...vogliamo..."  I caught those words, barely, but mostly I stood there staring at her, thinking, Who are you and who is speaking from your mouth?  I had never heard her speak so many Italian words or speak with so much confidence in Italian or speak so fast in Italian.  The words washed over me and she kept going.  I stopped her, "I don't know what you're saying -- stop!"  I couldn't help it: I felt so lost, so confused, so out of sync here in our hallway with my own seven-year-old.

"We asked Dad to go for gelato, and he said no," she said.

Wow -- that was a lot of exclaiming and a lot of words for a refused gelato.

"He probably wants you to have lunch first," I said.

"Yeah, that's what he said," she said, now calm, relaxed, speaking at a normal pace.

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I went to my room to grab a few things before heading back to school.  But I was amazed that Hannah could speak Italian like this.  How had I missed this?  How is it that she insists that I speak when we're out and about in my stalled, searching-for-the-word Italian?  I mean, I've known that she understands more than I do, but I had no idea that she could speak.

She and Alessio started coloring in another room.  They talked and colored and debated how many colors are in the rainbow.  I tried to listen, to make out each voice, but I couldn't tell who was who.

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Perhaps our other kids are speaking like this, too, and we just don't know it.  I am decidedly now in last place in our household in speaking Italian (and confidence in speaking, obviously -- the kids are quite encouraging).  And really, I'm okay with this: this is the way it should be.

Hannah and Alessio on the way to the eventual gelato