Keeping the post brief tonight. I can hardly keep my eyes open.
I don’t know why I’m still finding this so funny, days after it happened, but I just can’t seem to let it go. And let me tell you, Nora is NOT happy that I keep remembering and teasing her relentlessly about it.
Downtown New London has some fabulous murals on the sides of some of its buildings. We were walking there on Wednesday night as part of a food stroll event, the kind where you pay money for a ticket and then sample foods at the local participating eateries.
Anyway, it was lots of fun. As we were strolling, we passed one of the murals. I was holding Nora’s hand at the time and was watching her as she observed the mural. It was a scene of several musicians playing instruments. She began listing the names of the instruments the people were playing, from right to left as we walked by.
“Drums. Violin. [pause] Getuba.” As though a getuba was just any old instrument with which we were all familiar. Like a trumpet or a flute.
“Getuba?!” I busted out. “What’s a getuba?”
We all started cracking up.
“That’s a saxophone!” I corrected.
“Oh,” she said. Giggle, giggle.
I think what really happened is her brain got stuck on the unfamiliar looking sax, jumped ahead to the known image of the guitar, came back to the sax and incorrectly guessed tuba, but came out with a cross between guitar and tuba and ended up with a ‘getuba.’
Of course, I just can’t let it go. Every day since I’ve said the list out loud at least five times. “Drums. Violin. Getuba.” Followed by: cackle, cackle, cackle. Nora is beyond mortified she made the mistake, so I’m going to have to back off soon.
Maybe I’ll just give her a new nickname, and start referring to her as my sweet little getuba.