Samantha has finally gotten the idea that sometimes people speak different languages. She knows she speaks English, knows that her sitter speaks Russian. Actually, my little linguist has been able to count to 10 in Spanish since she was 2, used to know how to count to 10 in Japanese at that same time (although I never continued it with her and it has gone forgotten), and can now count to 5 in Russian (oh, that sweet voice!).
On our last morning in England, waiting to check out of our London hotel, two young children, perhaps about 4 and 6 years old, sat on the couch in the lobby next to Samantha, looking out the window at the rain. She greeted them, and asked their names, reciprocated only by their blank stares in return.
She asked the little girl if they'd lost their voices.
Quietly, I explained that perhaps they don't actually speak English.
Sammi looked thoughtful for a moment, then asked the girl if she was from Russia.
Again, a blank stare.
And then, as we were about to walk away into the gale force winds and soaking torrents to the nearby tube station, Samantha tried one last-ditch effort.
"Adios!" she called cheerfully.
Again, met with no response, we walked away, mommy and daddy grinning from ear to ear.
Good effort, baby girl...I applaud you!