Wh-wh-wh-what Did Shhhhhhhe Say?

Toddler-Speak is right up there with Gallic, Esperanto, and Klingon on the list of languages I have no hope of ever understanding.  If my wife didn't shadow me, translating half of what my daughter says, I'd end up:

• singing to her instead of swinging her
• dressing her in layers instead of playing with her letters,
• and giving her carrots instead of helping her into her carriage (thanks, grandma, for that 18th century term)

Cheeky's vocabulary is growing faster than O.J.'s rap-sheet, and she's in such a hurry to use it that she forgets to do things like enunciate or breathe during sentences.  Our home is filled with mis-pronounced, high-pitched, and oft-repeated run-on sentences, which is pretty annoying cute...at least until the stuttering starts.

Certain words violently contort Cheeky's tongue in mid-sentence, rendering her completely unable to make any noises besides "nyuh nyuh nyuh" until her mind catches up and snaps things back into working order.  Her W's sound like European police sirens, and any word starting with an I or L could be spoken better by Elmer Fudd with an allergic reaction.   It's not K-K-K-Ken coming to k-k-k-kill me bad, but it's at least as bad as Brian's jailer. 

I write it off as too much information swirling around her sponge of a brain, and not nearly enough practice for her muscular hydrostat.  (That's your nerd word-of-the-day.  You're welcome!)  But teaching patience to a two-year old is about as effective as teaching evolution at Mike Huckabee's campaign headquarters. 

My wife suggested we beat it out of her, which, if you knew her sense of humor as well as I, you'd  find much funnier than it sounds.  Still, there are moments when we wonder if she'll never shake her lisp or stutter and will end up giving her valedictory address through an interpreter. 

They say tripping over your tongue may be a sign of genius; it was true for me.  I just hope it's not the opposite...