Yeah, sure, I teach English. But that doesn't always mean I understand it.
At the end of this afternoon's ultimate frisbee club with middle-school students, I was playing catch with two kids while we awaited their rides.
One of them says to me, "Mr. Rozinsky, do you pyew-pyew or half a heart?"
"Wh-?" is the only fraction of a syllable I managed in response.
The student repeated himself: "You know, pyew-pyew or half a heart." Still befuddled, I most definitely did not know.
The student zipped an especially smooth, accurate forehand to the third corner of our triangle. Today was his first practice, and he was excited. "Pyew-pyew!" he called making a finger-pistol gesture with his throwing hand.
Ah, I realized. He's shooting lasers. Pyew-pyew.
He grinned at me, waggling his hand with quick flicks of the wrist as if tossing an invisible Frisbee. Then, he split his index and middle fingers that had formed the barrel of his imagined weapon. Now, those fingers made a V like a peace sign. Or the bottom half of a cartoon heart.
He'd been asking how I grip the disc when throwing forehands -- two fingers together or splayed apart.
"I go half cartoon heart," I told him, sending the Frisbee spinning his way. He hit me back with a tiny chin nod, like I was speaking his language.