"Hey Kit, I have the most smashing bit of news!" Samantha told me.
I looked at her quizzically, wondering if sickness could be the cause of her strange pronunciation. "What is it?" I asked hesitantly.
"Oh come on, guess!" she prodded me.
"Samantha, I don't—"
"Guess!"
"Samantha!" I exclaimed. "I don't have any idea."
Samantha didn't seem to notice my irritation. "I've found out that I'm part British! Have you noticed my accent?"
"Yeah, I noticed your accent." I said wryly.
Her "accent" was a weird combination of a southern drawl, an Australian accent, and a mangled British accent.
"So, umm, how long are you going to talk like that?" I asked.
"I don't know...." she said thoughtfully. "Perhaps forever!"
I hurried to my front door. "I'm home Mom!" I yelled.
I don't believe that my mother appreciated it much, for she was very near to the front door.
I opened my mouth to speak, when Samantha burst into the house.
"Mrs. Kittredge!" she exclaimed. "We're going to do a genealogy report in school, and I found out that I'm British!"
"Well," my mom said. "Did you know that Kit is part Irish, and part Welsh?"
Even I hadn't known that.
There was no way in the whole world that I was going to try to master an Irish brogue in two days.
I shook my head violently.
Samantha was disappointed, but undefeated. "How about a Welsh accent?" she asked slyly.
Samantha is definitely something else.
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