Do You Wanna?

Language. 

It's a phenomenal thing really.

Each part of the world and then smaller parts of that world have their own languages. 

And accents.

And sayings. 

And I'm starting to sound like a southerner. 

Well an Illinois southerner. 

A south of I-80-ian. 

My country drawl is getting worse the longer I'm in corn country. 

It's an easier way to talk really. 

I drop the "g" of most "ings" and keep throwing out "wanna?" when I ask my kids if they want to go get some yogurt with chocolately mix-ins. 

I used to talk like a Chicagoan. 

With full and round vowels.

And a hint of sarcasm following every other noun. 

I have kept up with some Northern Illinois ways of speech. 

I say sneakers. 

Not tennis shoes. 

I say soda. 

Not pop. 

I say grilled cheese. 

Not cheese toastie. 

I say White Sox. 

Not Cardinals.  

I grew up with a very middle of America twangy accent. 

Then I changed my location. 

And I enjoyed hearing how my voice adapted to my surroundings. 

To the city voice that was there just waiting to emerge. 

Like I had emerged. 

As a girl from small-town America who embraced her new city and home of Chicago. 

Now I'm back in the country. 

My city life is one from another time. 

When I kissed boys at Cub games. 

When I wore shorter skirts. 

When I ate more pad thai. 

But the country gal in me has emerged as a new one. 

With my own voice and convictions that I found when I was in the city. 

But with that old school twang from long ago. 

Now, you wanna go look for fireflies?

Or lightnin' bugs as they say in these parts?