An Accent? Me?

I was given a reality check this week while spending time with my dear dad. He couldn’t understand me! I had not noticed an increased lilt in my speech or any major shift in my accent, but he did. Mostly, he explained, it is the speed with which my words escape my mouth (and brain), making my sentences more like long words connected with barely a breath in between. I resorted to talking with a fake American Southern accent in order to accentuate my words and vowels for his comprehension. It was actually rather humorous, but made me grateful I could understand the fast talking Corkonians with whom I spend all my time. For feck’s sake, what’s not to understand?

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