Last night, the Prince and I got all “Well maybe we could find a cheap vintage car for the summer, nothing perfect, just something worth less than 4 grand that we could buy and drive with the windows down.”
Dreamers, we are.
Anyway, we had fun looking at the cars posted online for sale. One of these cars was a Plymouth, as in the discontinued Chrysler brand.
|Wait for it... [via]|
The Prince: I’m not so sure I like that Ply-Mouth.
Me: I’m not so sure I just heard you correctly. Can you say that again?
The Prince: Ply-Mouth
The Prince: What? It’s Ply-Mouth.
Me: Please, just say it one more time.
The Prince: Ply-Mouth.
The Prince: What the hell? What is so funny?
Me: Let me get this straight. You’re saying “Ply” as in “this is a piece of plywood” followed by “mouth” as in “my lips are attached to my mouth”?
The Prince: Yeah… that’s how it goes. I sounded it out.
Me: YOU SOUNDED IT OUT.
The Prince: … yeah?
Me: Sweetie, it’s Plymouth. Like “Plim-uth”. It’s also the name of a city.
The Prince: Oh.
And then for the rest of the time we were looking at cars, every time we saw a Plymouth, I was all “Look honey! Look! It’s a Ply-Mouth!”
Have you ever pronounced something hilariously wrong and been caught by someone who was as much of a shithead to you as I was to the Prince? Admit your faults in the comments, darlings. I won’t make fun of you, I promise.