Spatu-lur

I will definitely start this one off by saying I absolutely adore my father-in-law. He is one of the best men I have ever known, and I couldn't have picked a better one...and I'm not just saying that because of what I'm about to write about. That being said...here we go...

Since moving to the "Greater Valley Area" I have noticed a change in my own southern accent. However, TJ has some how grown to have a severe case of the southern accent which now may be described by some as down right redneck! I have always tried to correct him when he mispronouces words like oil, water (seriously...how do you get "wooter" from water?), ain't, etc. But, he threw me a curve ball the other day...see our coversation:

Me: "TJ, could you please go get me a spatula out of the drawer?"

TJ: "Spatu-lur, Mom...it's Spatu-lur."

Me: (Knowing exactly where he heard it from and trying not to laugh) "Um, no honey, it's not. It's spatu-la."

TJ: (Getting relatively upset and red-faced at this point) "NO MOM, it's Spatu-lar! That's what my Papa says...Spatu-lur!!!!!!!"

Me: (As calmly as possible, still trying to hold my laughter at bay) "Ok, ok...I know that's how Papa says it, but its really spatu-la. You say it however you want to."

Now, here's the kicker...Thomas comes home and I go about telling him the above story to which he says (let me remind you that my husband is no longer 5 years old...he's actually 27): "I thought it was spatu-lur too!" AND HE WAS SERIOUS!!!!!!