I don’t know if it’s the same for other couples, but over the years Alison and I built up a bank of phrases we often used when speaking to each other. With the meaning of and history behind each phrase being known only to us, it was like our own secret language.
The first such phrase that springs to mind emanated from the elder of my two daughters who had reached that early teenage age when everything and everyone, adults especially, are regarded with disdain. Along with her two siblings, she was visiting us in Edinburgh one weekend when I (as Dads usually do) kidded her on about something. We were walking towards Princes Street at the time, her and the siblings on the pavement in front of us. I remember her turning round, looking at me scornfully and saying, “Somehow, Ah dinnae ‘hink sae.” It was such a wonderful, unexpected response that from that moment on it came into daily use by Alison and I.
Another memorable phrase was uttered one night by the lassie who came to our door to deliver our Chinese meal. Explaining why she was late and why the meal was cold, she told us that on the way to our house she was about to drive past her sister’s house, but couldn’t resist stopping there and nipping in for a cup of tea and a blether. Then she rounded off her explanation by shrugging and asking, “Ken what Ah mean, ken, ken?” So casually said, yet so startling, that question also came into our daily use thereafter. And so much so that Alison occasionally embarrassed herself by unconsciously repeating it in conversations with other people – such as the doctor!
But a lot of our secret phrases originated from folk outside Scotland when we were on our frequent travels abroad. There was the time we took a gondola ride on our first ever visit to Venice. During the ride, the young, moustached and thoroughly bored gondolier pointed out this palazzo and that palazzo. “Eleventh century,” he would say about one. “Twelfth century,” about another. At one point, he ordered, “Now, on your left…” But for some strange reason we both looked right. “I said on your LEFT!” he barked. Beautiful. And ours to use forever after.
Another beautiful phrase occurred on a later visit to Venice. We had taken a private water-taxi from the airport to the rather posh Europa & Regina and were checking in at reception when Alison suddenly discovered that she had left a carrier-bag full of duty-free stuff on the taxi during the usual scramble to get us and our luggage safely onto the hotel’s landing stage. We explained the dilemma to the pompous Head Concierge and gave him a description of the taxi driver. He promised confidently to retrieve our duty-free goods. But every time we saw him after that, right up to the day we paid the bill and left, he would wave his arms in that nonchalant Italian way and declare, Inspector Clouseau-like, “I am on ze case!”
A wee favourite of mine came from the time we visited Istanbul. We were returning to our hotel one afternoon when we were stopped by a young boy the size of tuppence. “Wanna buy some postcards, meester?” he asked. “No, thank you,” I gave my polite, stock response. Then we continued on our way, but stopped and turned when we heard the boy shouting from some distance away. There was a defiant expression on his face and his little fists were clenched by his sides. “Why nutt?” he repeated emphatically. I was so bemused I ended up buying the postcards. And, of course, adding his question to our private vocabulary.
The last of our secret phrases that comes to mind for the moment has its origins back in Blighty. One year, we decided to celebrate Alison’s birthday in style with a trip to London, including a stay at The Savoy, a private capsule on the London Eye and a night at the Albert Hall during the Proms. After we checked into the hotel, a tall, sedate Austrian gentleman at reception led us on a little tour of The Savoy before taking us to our room. He showed us Gordon Ramsay’s Savoy Grill, of course, and the Thames Foyer, where the world-famous Savoy Afternoon Tea is served. “It’s vurth a wisit,” he said, recommending the latter. And it was.
It was a reminder of that last phrase that prompted me to write this piece and share our secret language. Thank you for indulging me. But before I go, here’s a brief guide to the circumstances in which each of the phrases should be used:
When you’re a bit dubious about something your partner has said – Somehow, Ah dinnae ‘hink sae.
When you’re struggling to explain yourself properly to your partner – Ken what Ah mean, ken, ken?
When your partner isn’t paying attention to what you’re saying – I said on your LEFT!
When you’ve been reminded by your partner that you still have to do something – I am on ze case!
When your partner has unfairly disallowed you from doing something – Why nutt?
When you want to recommend something to your partner – It’s vurth a wisit.
The first such phrase that springs to mind emanated from the elder of my two daughters who had reached that early teenage age when everything and everyone, adults especially, are regarded with disdain. Along with her two siblings, she was visiting us in Edinburgh one weekend when I (as Dads usually do) kidded her on about something. We were walking towards Princes Street at the time, her and the siblings on the pavement in front of us. I remember her turning round, looking at me scornfully and saying, “Somehow, Ah dinnae ‘hink sae.” It was such a wonderful, unexpected response that from that moment on it came into daily use by Alison and I.
Another memorable phrase was uttered one night by the lassie who came to our door to deliver our Chinese meal. Explaining why she was late and why the meal was cold, she told us that on the way to our house she was about to drive past her sister’s house, but couldn’t resist stopping there and nipping in for a cup of tea and a blether. Then she rounded off her explanation by shrugging and asking, “Ken what Ah mean, ken, ken?” So casually said, yet so startling, that question also came into our daily use thereafter. And so much so that Alison occasionally embarrassed herself by unconsciously repeating it in conversations with other people – such as the doctor!
But a lot of our secret phrases originated from folk outside Scotland when we were on our frequent travels abroad. There was the time we took a gondola ride on our first ever visit to Venice. During the ride, the young, moustached and thoroughly bored gondolier pointed out this palazzo and that palazzo. “Eleventh century,” he would say about one. “Twelfth century,” about another. At one point, he ordered, “Now, on your left…” But for some strange reason we both looked right. “I said on your LEFT!” he barked. Beautiful. And ours to use forever after.
Another beautiful phrase occurred on a later visit to Venice. We had taken a private water-taxi from the airport to the rather posh Europa & Regina and were checking in at reception when Alison suddenly discovered that she had left a carrier-bag full of duty-free stuff on the taxi during the usual scramble to get us and our luggage safely onto the hotel’s landing stage. We explained the dilemma to the pompous Head Concierge and gave him a description of the taxi driver. He promised confidently to retrieve our duty-free goods. But every time we saw him after that, right up to the day we paid the bill and left, he would wave his arms in that nonchalant Italian way and declare, Inspector Clouseau-like, “I am on ze case!”
A wee favourite of mine came from the time we visited Istanbul. We were returning to our hotel one afternoon when we were stopped by a young boy the size of tuppence. “Wanna buy some postcards, meester?” he asked. “No, thank you,” I gave my polite, stock response. Then we continued on our way, but stopped and turned when we heard the boy shouting from some distance away. There was a defiant expression on his face and his little fists were clenched by his sides. “Why nutt?” he repeated emphatically. I was so bemused I ended up buying the postcards. And, of course, adding his question to our private vocabulary.
The last of our secret phrases that comes to mind for the moment has its origins back in Blighty. One year, we decided to celebrate Alison’s birthday in style with a trip to London, including a stay at The Savoy, a private capsule on the London Eye and a night at the Albert Hall during the Proms. After we checked into the hotel, a tall, sedate Austrian gentleman at reception led us on a little tour of The Savoy before taking us to our room. He showed us Gordon Ramsay’s Savoy Grill, of course, and the Thames Foyer, where the world-famous Savoy Afternoon Tea is served. “It’s vurth a wisit,” he said, recommending the latter. And it was.
It was a reminder of that last phrase that prompted me to write this piece and share our secret language. Thank you for indulging me. But before I go, here’s a brief guide to the circumstances in which each of the phrases should be used:
When you’re a bit dubious about something your partner has said – Somehow, Ah dinnae ‘hink sae.
When you’re struggling to explain yourself properly to your partner – Ken what Ah mean, ken, ken?
When your partner isn’t paying attention to what you’re saying – I said on your LEFT!
When you’ve been reminded by your partner that you still have to do something – I am on ze case!
When your partner has unfairly disallowed you from doing something – Why nutt?
When you want to recommend something to your partner – It’s vurth a wisit.