Posted by Fitz

Since the day she was born, The Bean has managed to delight me in countless ways that I anticipated and in more that I didn’t.  She is the light of my life, and manages to remind me of that every single day.  This latest development, though, has thrilled me beyond belief, and manages to crack me up just by thinking about it: she has a Boston accent.

I’m a born and bred Boston girl from the Home of Champions, and I grew up in a family with accents so strong that we didn’t think we had any.  Pahk the cah in Hahvid Yahd was nothing to my family – it was just where you parked when you went “to town”.   When I arrived in Connecticut as a freshman in college, I was surprised that none of my peers from the tri-state area thought things were wicked retahded or pissa.  I didn’t know that a canka sore was actually a canker sore with an -er on the end until the end of sophomore year…and yes, I’m serious.  Over the course of my four years at school and subsequent life in New York City, my accent has faded into one that is much more Connecticut.  The Boston doesn’t come out unless I’ve: a) been watching Good Will Hunting, b) had more than three glasses of wine, or c) visited with all of my uncles recently.  No matter what I sound like, though, it all comes down to the fact that Boston accents feel like home to me.  They are my favorite, and no one else can persuade me differently.

Given the above declaration of love to my home accent, you can imagine my delight when The Bean first pointed at my Jeep and said “Caaaaaaaaah!”  I thought it was baby talk – no concept of an accent entered my mind.  Then we got to her cereal “Baaaaaaaaaah!” and I chuckled.   She pointed to her elbow region yesterday and yelled “Ahhhhhhhm!”, and put the icing on the proverbial Boston Cream Pie when my mom brought out a Barbie (age inappopriate, but well meaning) and taught The Bean her name.  The rest of the day was punctuated by happy chortles of “Baaaaaaahbie!”  We laughed and laughed, talking about how you can take the girl out of Boston, but…well, you know the rest.

Now, I’m no fool.  I know she doesn’t truly have a Boston accent, and I know that her Rs will develop sooner, rather than later.  But hearing my Beanie talk this way reminds me of my family – especially my grandmother, who will never meet my Bean – and it just plain old makes me happy.  As I’ve said already, a Boston accent feels like home to me.  The Bean’s enunciation reminded me this week that my home was no where near complete until she came to stay, on so many different levels.  She has created a new Fitz, and I’m wicked, wicked proud to be her mum.  Now that’s pissa!