When we are out and about people outside our home obviously expect to consistently hear Dutch from my sons once they have struck up conversation in Dutch. They are not expecting them to suddenly switch to English. But sometimes it happens.
The funniest moment so far was when a pediatric nurse cast serious aspersions on Bert’s sexuality, the grumpier of the Bert and Ernie duo.
The nurse appeared and to get him comfortable with her (some two year olds are not too happy when a stranger wants to poke and prod them) she asked about the cuddly toy he was holding,
“Nou, wie is dat?” ("So, who's that?")
“Ernie,” replied my son looking at her as if she had landed from an alien planet.
“En waar is Bert?,” she continued. ("And where is Bert?")
“Bert’s at home,” he replied, turning around to get back to the important business of playing with Ernie.
The nurse looked a little shocked and turned to us and asked,
“Wat zegt hij nou?” ("What did he just say?")
“Bert is thuis,” my husband said “maar dan in het Engels. Hij heeft een Bert knuffel thuis.” (Bert is at home, but then in English. He has a Bert toy at home.")
The nurse broke in to hysterics and the three of us looked at her as if maybe she needed an appointment in a different section of the hospital. Until she explained,
“Ik dacht dat hij zei ‘Bert is een homo’.” ("I thought he said Bert is a 'homo'.")
It wasn't the first time I had heard that rumour, but in the sterile surroundings of a hospital examination room, it certainly broke the ice.