Because English is Hard

The other day at breakfast, I was handing my five-year-old some toast…

Me: Here, eat some jam and bread like your ancestors.

Brontë: What are my “ancestors?”

Me: Well… okay, you know how I’m your mom and my mom is your grandma?

Brontë: Yeah.

Me: Her mom is your great-grandma, right? And her mom was your great-great-grandma. If you keep going, you get to your ancestors… like your great-great-great-great-great-grandma. A lot of them came out of England and Scotland where they have lots of shows about orphans and eat jam and bread.

She ponders this.

Brontë: We have boys in our family, right?

Me: Of course!

Brontë: And they are our “an-brothers?”

Me: Oh… no. They’re also our ancestors. It’s an-CEST-ors, not an-SIST-ers…

Brontë (stomping off): THAT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE!

 

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