SIS-BOOM-BAH

When playing outside with his ten-year-old sister, my seven-year-old friend, Andy said, “You are very forgetful. I diagnose you with Onomatopoeia!“ Whereupon, his sister, Julia probably should have replied, “Buzz Off!” Then there was a tick-tock from the outdoor clock, and they knew it was time to go inside for their cereal that was snap, crackling and popping in the kitchen.

Perhaps you can use Andy’s diagnosis with the following true story.
 
Many years ago, I was all a twitter being a  freshman at the University of Michigan.
Unfortunately, when I came home for a visit, I managed to bring some brand new riff-raff language with me. After blurting out one of these cock-a-doodle-doo words, my Father said, “Tsk-Tsk, Dear, do you know that English is a robust language. Surely, you can find a word better than that.” A bell went off in my head, and I felt like a complete ding-dong.

My Mom then asked me if I would like to take their brand new car for a run on the highway, and
drive them to visit friends who lived in another town. The car looked shiny new, but it had a Chitty- Chitty-Bang-Bang engine. I started the car with a big Vroom!

The trip was uneventful until I got to the city limits, and put on the brakes which squealed like the sound of a Wolverines claws being extended “Snikt!” I almost hit a telephone pole.  Phew!
“What are you doing?” asked Dad from the back seat?  I pulled out the unattached rod and steering wheel and handed it to him. We had almost experienced a big Kaboom. I thought that maybe Mom had fainted, because there was not a boo-hoo, a peep nor a squeal out of her. But finally I heard a distinct “Phew.”

A mechanic finally arrived, and picked up the the car to take it to his shop for a steering wheel re-attachment. When asked when the car would be ready to drive he replied with a yawn and a mmm. Dad explained to him that the car had gone “zip when it moved and bop when it stopped.” (Tom Paxton quote).

Our hostess picked us up, but she greeted us with a sniff and achoo having developed an allergy from raking rustling leaves. It began to rain—first a drop, then a drizzle, and lot of plops and finally quite a gush.

When we arrived at her house, we were greeted with a growl, a bow-wow and an arf. The growl came from her husband. Other than slurping his soup and an occasional burp, he was quite a hoot, and the chatter produced a few giggles.

Finally, the ho-hum mechanic delivered the car and assured us that the steering wheel was now attached, as he walloped my Father with a whopping big bill.

We returned home safely.  It had been a “Rattle and Hum” (U 2) visit, but all’s well that ends well with a healthy clickety-clack.

Esther Blumenfeld