Flynn or Flyer? Your guess is as Good as Mine

My son has a strange predilection.  I have no idea how it has come about, nor what to do about it, therefore the only sensible thing to do is tell everyone about it.  A problem shared is a problem that other people can laugh at you about, as they say.

It started fairly early, about as soon as he could speak really.  His vocabulary, despite evidence on this blog to the contrary, is pretty limited, he can say 'digger' and 'up' (which for a while was a stand in for any sort of directional command.  Watching visitors struggle with how to get him higher as they were squashing him up against the ceiling while he was bellowing 'up' at them was for a while one of my guiltiest of guilty pleasures, he has now learnt 'down' as well, so so much for that.)  'Bird' has also been a particular favourite of his.  But one word has stood out above all others as his go-to word in almost any circumstance. It displays a singleness of mind, as well as such strange taste, that I find a little worrying.


What word is it?  I hear you ask.  What could it possibly be?  The word that the little man can be heard belting out at the top of his lungs morning to night is 'Erro'.

Now I am left with two conclusions here as to what he is shouting about.  He is either the world's biggest fan of post-war Swashbucklers, and fancies himself as the next great screen Robin Hood, or he has developed a strong fondness for old, not quite competent owls.

Either way this is completely inexplicable.  At every oportunity S can be heard babbling 'Erro'.  He shouts it at me when I go to get him up in the morning, he shouts it at B when I take him through to her, he shouts it at people in the street and when we go shopping he shouts it at everyone he can see in the aisles.  So far no-one has offered him a swordfight, or got offended that he has mistaken them for an owl, but I think it's only a matter of time.

The whole thing is not helped by the fact that if he doesn't get a response he just gets louder and louder eventually resorting, on one occasion, to grabbing my face and forcing me to look at him as he hurled the word at me with all his might.  The only thing we have found that will make him happy, and quiet him down, is to say, "Hello" at him.  Why this helps we are unsure but it is the only thing that will calm him down.  Just another mystery that will never get solved I suppose, by the time he's old enough to explain himself he'll have forgotten he ever did it.  Oh well, thanks for listening, it has been a weight off my mind, now I just need to try to find a shop that sells carrier owls and green tights.