Dear Speech Goddess:

Oops. "Therapist." Sorry. My bad.

Got your note the other day, stuffed in the E-man's cubby. It was startlingly similar to the one you left two years ago regarding my daughter, Tootie.

You don't remember?

Alrighty then -- a refresher:

"We recommend your child receive both an evaluation and early-intervention therapy that will better prepare him/her for kindergarten."

Or something like that.

You cited some examples of how Tootie -- and now the E-man -- mispronounced words and "spoke softly."

And then there was a leeeennnnngthy paragraph about how most insurances companies will fully cover said intervention. And then another paragraph about how your company, "Thera***" will come to my child's day care once a week to "help" my JUST-TURNED-TWO-YEAR-OlD learn how to say "snack," rather than "nack."

(Actually, speech goddess, I've been trying to eliminate that word entirely from his apparently too-miniscule vocabulary, but whatever...

How to put this delicately?

Stay the hell away from my child. (That's "hae-ull." With the required drawl.) Just in case you didn't understand me the first time. I realize we here talk funny.

I'll have you know, the E-man talks like every other toddler his age. And just because four (yep, FOUR) other mothers of children in my kid's class have fallen prey to your scam doesn't mean I'm about to offer up my little lamb.

Dearie, I'm a bitchy reporter. You know, skeptical. Jaded. Sarcastic.

Did I ask you to test my son? Or my daughter, for that matter?

Nope, you just showed up at the day care, as you do every six months, and attempted to freak out me and a bunch of other easily guilted working parents.

Forget it, lady. I'm onto you. My son substitues a 'P' for 'F.' (Which means if he were as cantankerous as I am, he would have told you to "Puck off," but he hasn't yet, thankfully, picked up his mommy's bad words.)

Yeah, he talks "softly" when in the presence of strangers, particularly suspect "therapists" but we can understand him just fine.

And hey, I didn't master my "THs" until ... ummm ... age 5. Today, there's no sign of any (speech) impediment.

Please, leave the toddler set alone. They have no need of your ... services.

Sincerely,

Caffy

Oh, P.S. I showed Hubs your note. You know, just to ensure my cynicism hasn't shot into hyperdrive.

He read until reaching the paragraph about insurance, then tossed it on the table.

"What a scam," he said. "Throw it away."

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