Plattdeutsch - Plattdüütsch,
dat is un blifft mien Mudderspraak
Dat verflixte Schöönschrieven
vun Johnny Meyer
Glieks nah Fröhstück gung dat all los, do dit, do dat. De halve Dag weer mi all verdorven, dar bleev rein gorkien Tiet mehr to'n Football speelen. Twee mal weer ick all utneit, um mit de annern Kinner up'n Sportplatz to speelen un twee mal weer miene lüttje Süster dar ankomen, um mi to seggen, dat ick mi woller nah Hus hen scheren schull. Se de dat leevens geern, se schree uk ordentlich luut, so dat de annern Kinner dat uk all hören kunnen.
Nu leegen all de Teppiche dar uprullt bi de Siedeldöör, ick schull se över de Teppichstange hangen un utkloppen.
"Jümmers dat groote Muul un de frechen Antwurten, dat will'k di woll fix even utdrieven, ick will di wat anners" seggt use Mudder to mi, at ick woller anne Burg kem. "Jedet mal wenn ick mal een beten Hölp bruken do, denn büst du över alle Barge, du bliffst nu hier, bit du fartig büst. Dat du mi nich woller utneist."
So'n Schiet, just vundaagen moss use Mudder dat in Kopp kriegen, dat ganze Huus up'n Kopp to stellen, just vundaagen bruuk'ten de annern Kinner mi doch to'n Football speelen.
Nu hung de lange Läufer dar över de Stang un ick wamsde dar mit'n Teppichklopper up in, wat dat Töch man hergeven wull. De Stoff de flog mi man so um de Ohren. Just at ick so goot inne Gang kamen weer, dar rutschtde de Läufer all woller mal vun de Stange daal un full in Mudders Arfken un Wuddeln, de dar unner de Stang wussen. Dit mal harr Mudder dat over woll sehn, at se bie't Betten maaken ut Komerfinster keek un mi up't Visier nahmen harr. Nu keem se ut de Siedeldöör rutscheeten un reet me denn Teppichklopper ut de Hand, um mi dat to wiesen wo dat maakt wurd. At de olle Teppich over uk bi er runner rutschde un ick so schodenfroh anfung to lachen, dar leep Mudders Galle över. Se fegde achter mi an. Mit denn Teppichklopper inne Hand, gung de Jogeree los um't Huus um to. "Tööf man, di will ick woll kriegen, du Tuneegel, di will ick wat wiesen, mi hier uk noch wat ut lachen, di krieg ick noch," reep se, at se upgeev. "See to dat dar mit klar kumms un bliev ut miene Wuddeln rut."
Schmacht harr ick uk, in't Huus troh ick mi noch nich woller, denn Mudder harr dat Brotschapp unner eehre Flunken. Kreeg se mi dar to faten denn geev dat welcke achter de Ohren, dat stund fast. "Du Donnerslag, nu büst du uk noch in miene Arfken. Nu kumm's eers maal rin un rull's de Teppiche ut un denn heff ick noch wat anners for di to don." Wenn't dar um gung Straafen ut to deelen, weer use Mudder nummer Eens, dat kunn ick betügen, dat nehm gar kien End. Torf rin holen, Rad putzen, denn Padd um't Huus ut harken, Unkrut ut trecken un all so wat. Over dat gung jo noch, wenn se denn over noch anfung mit dat "Schönschreiben," denn hörde de Spoß aver up. Eers dree Daag Speelverbot, denn hunnert mal up schrieven, "Ich will immer lieb und artig sein." Dat kellt, sowat, dat geiht nah binnen to, dar kunn's um huulen.
Een Bookstaven moss just so groot sien at de anner, gaaanz moi schrieven. Hess Tiet genoog, wenn dree Daag nich langt, kriggst noch wat to. Wenn de ganze Siet nich goot ut seeg flog se glieks in Torfkassen, "dat du di nich unnersteist de Siet dar woller rut to holen," meende se noch, "nochmal machen," weer er Urdeel. So'n Schiet, sowat dat kellt. Disse Schönschrieveree un ick wi kemen eenfach nich to maat. Dat weer all meiss Straafarbeit, so at se dat in Kitschen maaken möt, dach ick. At denn uk noch een grooten Klecks dar midden up de Siet up duken de, dar bleev mi over doch de Lust weg. Ick versök dat noch mit "Verzeihung Mutti" goot to maaken, up hochdütsch vör betere Wirkung, over nix dar vun, "soo'ne Kleckeree gifft dat nich."
Wo wiet weer ick denn egentlich, eenuntwintig, tweeuntwintig, wo kumms dar blots mit klor? dach ick noch.
Ick heff Koppkellen, ick möt nahn Klo, bin to möh, ick heff soon Schmacht, ick kann nich mehr schrieven. Vun all miene Sorgen wull Mudder nix weten, se hörde dat garnich "laht di man Tiet" seggt se blots, "morgen is uk noch een Daag."
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Penmenship 101
By Johnny Meyer
It started right after breakfast, do this, do that. Half of my day was ruined already, there was no time left at all, to play soccer. Twice I had run away already today and twice my little sister came over to the play grounds to tell me that I should get back home and help mom, now.
She had to holler extra loud, and often enough, so that every body could hear her, she just loved it.
Now all the carpets and runners where laying by the kitchen door and needed to be cleaned. It always was my job to hit the carpets with the carpet whip. To knock the dust out of them, hanging over the carpet pipe. "Always your big mouth and those snotty answers, I will teach you something," said my mom, as I came back home, "every time I need some help, is when your gone again, from now on, you stay here until your done, don't you dare run away again".
Rats, why did mom have to do her big spring cleaning just today?
Just when all those other kids out there, needed me to play soccer.
Now the runners hung over the pipe and I laid into them, the dust flew around me, got into my eyes, and my teeth. About the time when I got going well, is when the runner slipped of the pipe again, into mom's peas and carrots, which grew under the pipe. This time however, mom had seen the whole affair, through the bedroom window, as she was busy making the beds. I could hear her already as she came out of the kitchen door. She was mad. Mom ripped the carpet whip out of my hands, to show me how to do it correctly, and almost right away the runner slipped of the pipe again. Right into her own peas and carrots, or what was left of them.
As my smiles turned into laughter, that's when she had enough, mom started to boil, and in stead the carpet she laid into me. But not for long, I was good, I was fast, I ran away, around the house we went. Mom right behind me, swinging her carpet whip. "You just wait, I will get you soon enough." "But for now you better finish up" she said as she was gasping for air, "and stay out of my peas and carrots.
Boy, by now I was getting hungry, I didn't have the guts to show my face in the kitchen, as mom had a pretty tight grip on her breadbasket. If she would catch me in there now, she probably would knock my block off. "Well carrots and peas will have to do," I thought to myself. I should have known she caught me again, "This is to much, bring in the carpets and roll them back out. I do have some other chores for you to do.
When it came to punishments, our mom was the best; she knew how to deal it out. "Bring in some peat, rake the walks around the house, pull out all the weeds first, polish my bicycle, bring in some kindling.
Those were just the easy chores, but when she started in with this penmanship, that is when the fun stopped. That is when things got serious, especially since penmanship and I could not get along. I hated it, plain and simple.
Being grounded for three days and then write a hundred times "I will always behave and do what I am told to do". That hurts that is not something I could brag about with those other kids. This really, really hurts, as a matter of fact; it hurt so badly, I could have almost cried, almost.
One letter had to be exactly as the other, each sentence had to be just like the one before or better. If it wasn't right, I had to do the whole page over again. Mom would throw the whole page into the wastebasket "don't you dare pick that page out of that basket again". She had no mercy.
Rats, a big ink spot, right in the middle of the page, my best page so far. Do it again and again, how far did I get anyhow? Twenty-one, twenty-two, how in the world would I ever get done, if she kept this up?
Even prisoners have a better life, I thought. I was sure they did.
Excuse me dear mom I didn't mean to make a spot in the middle of the page, I am tired, I have a headache, I have to go to the toilet, I am hungry, I can't write anymore, all this pleading it was fruitless. She did not hear me she did not want to hear what I had to say. All she said was "take your time, tomorrow is an other day, and if that is not enough, I will allow you some extra days. And that hurt even more.
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