Brisk footsteps paced through the hall. Shaking her head from side to side, [Y/N] cleaned her hands on her apron and stepped outside of the kitchen for a second to reprimand her children.
“Alex! Steven! What did I just tell you?” She said into an empty hallway that led to their bedrooms.
“Sorry, ma.” Both of them hummed, and silence took over again.
She returned to the kitchen to put the casserole in the stove, then turned back to the pile of used utensils that would continue to grow and add to her disquiet, if she did not do something about it instantly. What she loved about casseroles was that the preparation of the evening meal required very little of her attention once she closed the door of the kitchen stove. So now she could already get started on the cleaning rather than having to do a much more arduous job after dinner. It was a small victory, but one she was very thrilled about. One after the other, she grabbed the dirty bowls, knives, saucers, cutting board, and spatulas, and wiped off the refuse then piled the items on top of one another in a specific order, and placed them on the counter next to the sink to wash. She sighed. If only they could afford a second radio. She would have enjoyed listening to some fun tunes while she was doing her domestic work, but for now she would have to be her own recreational fun. Humming the melody to All My Love, she grabbed a dish pan, placed it in the sink, and turned on the faucet until the pan was half full of water. All my love, I give you all my love. After turning off the faucet, she removed the soap from the top cupboard, where the children could not reach, and added it to the boiling hot water. All my sighs will disappear at last. First, she rinsed and dry-polished the glasses the children had used that day, then came the cooking utensils with remains of food on them. Now that you’re here at last. These would require a bit more effort, so she added more soap until the dish pan was filled with soap suds. Soap suds seemed like a lot more fun to her when she was a young girl who got to help out her mother. You thrill me—.
“Oh, that smells great. What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” [Y/N] turned her head and saw James standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He was all smiles, looking like a kid who just walked into a candy store, with bills and letters in one hand while the other had already begun loosening up the top buttons of his shirt.
Is there an actual reason behind why a camel is practically called a big mistake in Polish?
Okay, so this is a popular Polish pun among children. In Polish camel is wielbłąd m. If you break this word into half while not being aware of its real etymology, you get two different words:
wielki (adj.) - big
błąd m - mistake
That’s why sometimes you can hear that camels are big mistakes :)
BUT it is believed that people called camels “big mistakes” (some kind of a distortion, mistake in nature) because of their weird appearance. It’s only a kind of a legend, because words are not created in this way, but it’s still nice to have some “folk” theories. :)
What’s really interesting is the true reason to name this animal just like that. Firstly there were words from Greek, Latin and Gothic languages (the order is important) - then Old-Church-Slavonic took them all and put it into new word for this language - wielbąd (velьbǫdъ). Then Polish language changed a little the word - wielbląd –> wielbrąd –> wielbłąd. What’s important, is that those words - from Greek, Latin and Gothic - meant elephant!
Greek - elefas
Latin - elephantus
Gothic - ulbandus (a mix of Greek and Latin)
All of them were names for an elephant (you can clearly see the connection between English elephant and the words above) - why? Polish people had no idea how those big ass animals looked like - they had only some horrible drawings of weird creatures. So when they saw the first big ass animal, they didn’t give a single fuck to distinguish an elephant from a camel.
There is a similar story about elephant - in Polish słoń m. Slavic language had a word slon which was taken from (probably) Turkish eslan, which meant tiger!