One of the good/bad things about being an in intercultural/bilingual relationship is that you don’t always have a common language.
For example, Good Man recently taught me:
잘되면 자기 탓, 못되면 조상 탓.
Something goes well, it’s because of me/you. Something goes wrong, blame my/your ancestors.
We also run into childhood sayings…
A few days ago, Good Man yanked up the end of the covers on the bed yelling “아이스케키!”
“It’s what the little boys say when they flip the girls’ skirts up to see their panties.”
And I accidentally taught him “Liar, liar, pants on fire!” last week when he was obviously lying about something.
Now he won’t quit saying it. Damn me.
I only resorted to pants-on-fire after saying, syllable by syllable, “거. 짓. 말. 쟁. 이. 야.” You are a liar.
Good Man looked at me, mock scared, “You would be such a good Korean mother! You are so Korean! It is scary!”
I practiced. “야! 녀석! 하지마!” Hey! Street urchin! Don’t do that!