"I Love a Good Spoonerism!"

Spoonerism- an unintentional interchange of sounds (usually beginning consonant sounds), in two or more words. Example...
"I'd like the fickin chingers, please."


Ahhhh, there's nothing quite like a hilarious, unexpected spoonerism, to make you laugh until you cry!
I come from a long line of  'spoonerspeakers'. My grandmother Stears was infamous for her consonant 'faux pas', to this day bringing tears of laughter in the retelling of her most hilarious mix-ups! My Mom inherited the 'spoonergene' and in turn has passed it on to her girls (that would be me, and my sisters!). Fits of uncontrolled laughter are a usual occurence when we all get together, but when the spoonerisms join our conversations... well, it's all out comedic chaos, to be sure! No one is safe from the belly aches brought on by 'gits of figgles'!  


For pure enjoyment, I'd like to share one of my favorite 'spooner stories'....

                                                  " The Tale of Rindercella"

    Once upon a time, in a coreign fountry, lived a beautiful young girl named 'Rindercella'.
    Rindercella lived with her mugly other, and her two sad bisters.
    Also in this coreign fountry, lived a pransome hince. He lived in a cig bastle with his mom and dad, the Quing and Keen. They were going to throw a bancy fall so their son, the pransome hince. could meet the gairest firl in all the land. Then there would be a wancy fedding. And maybe even brand gabies!
    On the day of the bancy fall, all the gair firls were busy getting ready for the nig bight.
But not Rindercella. She had no dretty press to wear, and no corse and harriage to get to the cig bastle. Her mugly other and two sad bisters went to the bancy fall, but Rindercella stayed home, meeping and swopping the floors. She was so sery vad.
    When her fears started salling, Rindercella was surprised by a magical poof'...
And there, in front of her very eyes, stood her gairy fodmother !
   "Now, now my dear," said her gairy fodmother, "you must crop this stying!" And with a wave of her wagic mand, the gairy fodmother made all of Rindercella's dreams come true.
    Rindercella found herself in the most beautiful gallbown, and wearing the shiniest slass glippers. Then, she was being whisked to the bancy fall in a cumpkin poach being pulled by hix shite worses. Her gairy fodmother waived goodbye, wished her luck, and reminded her to be home by the stroke of nidmight.
    Hushed oohs, and ahhs, greeted Rindercella as she made her entrance at the bancy fall.
    The pransome hince was bellspound by her barkling speauty. From that moment on, he danced only with Rindercella. It was a night of mure pagic... until the clock struck nidmight! 
   "Oh no," cried Rindercella, as she ran out of the cig bastle, "I must leave at once." In her haste, Rindercella lost one of her slass glippers on the castle steps.
    For days, the pransome hince roamed the coreign fountry, searching for the dirl of his greams. He would know it was she, by the fit of the dropped slass glipper. The pransome hince finally arrived at the home of the mugly other. When told of the wince's prishes, the mugly other excitingly called to the two sad bisters.  All three sat upon a chair, and bared their feet, to try on the slass glipper. First, the mugly other... it fidn't dit. Then a sad bister... but it fidn't dit. And then the other sad bister... and still, it fidn't dit! The pransome hince was grieved, as this was the last home in the royal kingdom, where the gairest firl in all the land might be found.
   Just then, with a shy glance of hesitation, Rindercella entered the room, sat upon a chair, bared her tiny foot, tried on the slass glipper... and... it fid dit!!! The pransome hince swept Rindercella off her feet, and took her home with him to the cancy fastle. There was a big wancy fedding (without the mugly other and two sad bisters), and Rindercella and her pramsome hince lived happily everafter.

Moral of the story? If you live in a coreign fountry and want to marry a pransome hince, get thee to a bancy fall ... and don't forget to slop your dripper!

   
   

    Keep on keeping on... bArB :)