Language Barrier

I realized long ago that Derpus and I don't speak the same language. I speak English, he speaks some modified version of Neaderthal. It sounds a lot like English to me, but I think his brain converts everything I say into a series of high pitched clicks and whistles. His responses seem to indicate that he understands what I'm saying, but I think he's merely become very skilled at feigning fluency in his non-native tongue. We had the following "conversation" yesterday:

 "Derpus, one of the kids clogged the upstairs toilet."

 "Ugh. Where's the plunger?"

 "Under the downstairs bathroom sink."

Now, due, I'm sure, to the language barrier, I assumed this meant he intended to retrieve said plunger and remove the obstruction. (Which was most certainly one of the huge wads of toilet paper that Miss Belle considers necessary for the execution of any bathroom function, but I digress.) I have since learned that a more accurate Neanderthal to English translation would be: "I need to know where the plunger is so I can stay away from it and avoid having to unclog the toilet by any means necessary."

 The misunderstanding became apparent this morning when Ender came to me and said, "Mommy, the toilet can't flush, but I didn't know and I used it and now the water is all spilling."

Lovely.

"Uh-oh. Did you pee or poop in it?"

"Um....poop."

 Of course.

Nothing like a beautiful morning spent cleaning poop water while a hungry infant screams from the next room and a 2 year old tries to "help", right? Thank heaven for Lysol and sanitizer. I may have a thing or two to say to Derpus when he gets home, but don't worry. He just hears dolphin squeak.