Like many linguists, Dent is positive about linguistic change, and feels that children are its flagbearers. She’s excited that non-native speakers of English around the world now hugely outnumber native speakers, and about the “new Englishes” in their hands and mouths. She’s not afraid of AI, and doesn’t think new technology is going to destroy the way we speak our language – though that fear is nothing new. Victorians were afraid of the postcard, she points out. Their telegram was our “text speak is ruining our children”. On the other hand, she’s not keen on the methods that schools have recently been made to use to teach grammar. “If you say to kids, ‘Do you know about ablaut reduplication?’, their eyes would just completely glaze over. But if you say to them, ‘Would you like to play a game of pong ping, or have a kat kit?’, they understand that instinctively and it becomes quite exciting.” She has two children and – far from correcting their errors – has always loved it when they get words wrong. “English has always evolved by mistake,” she says. “The example I give is the jerusalem artichoke, which has nothing to do with Jerusalem and is not even an artichoke. The plant is a heliotrope – it turns towards the sun – but because we couldn’t pronounce the Italian ‘ gira sol’, we thought ‘Jerusalem’ would do.” The Good Housekeeping Institute evaluates hundreds of toys every year, looking at safety, construction and, ultimately, the deciding fun factor. P G Wodehouse was born on this day in 1881, a man who went on to inspire laughter and deep affection for his literary creation of Bertie Wooster. He was also single-handedly responsible for giving the world the possibility of being “gruntled”: “He spoke with a certain what-is-it in his voice, and I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled” (The Code of the Woosters, 1938). Sometimes also whips and jangles, this term first popped up in the mid-1940s meaning nervousness and depression. By the ‘50s, it would also mean “withdrawal from alcohol or narcotics,” according to Green’s. 11. Wiffle-Woffles

Fubbles - Fat Brain Toys

On returning to his native Sunderland, Crawford was hailed a hero, and became the darling of the people, celebrated in engravings and pamphlets across the country, culminating in an accolade from the king. His actions ensured that the British Navy had the enduring reputation of being resilient and formidable. New for 2023, this toy combines two great kid loves: A flashlight plus bubbles! Only one kid can operate it at a time, so if you know several kids will want to play together, get them each their own torch. It's especially fun as the sun goes down! According to The New Partridge Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English, this term meaning “melancholic, depressed” originated in the UK in 1826. 3. Blue Devils When asked for a word to perfectly sum up 2020 so far, Susie lands on mubble fubbles. She explained: “It’s a 16th-Century word that means a sense of impending doom or despondency; never quite knowing what’s around the corner.

The Fubbles Fun-Finiti Bubble Machine is the best bubble machine for kids that you can buy right now. After testing nearly a dozen popular bubble machines with two kids, ages 4 and 9, the Fun-Finiti is the one they consistently requested to play with time and time again. The machine has three twirling jets on top that send hundreds of bubbles into the air per minute, creating a truly magical experience that kids of any age will enjoy. The six spinning wands on this bubble machine can be set for two levels of output — though, knowing kids, they're always going to want it set to the max. It holds up to 12.5 fluid ounces of any bubble solution and can go for up to a half hour without running out. People use it for weddings and parties so you can imagine the volume of bubbles that continuously stream out of it. Words can be just as seasonal as our fruit and flowers. Autumn seems to inspire the most mellifluous of words, like “gossamer”: the fine, filmy cobwebs that float in the air and linger on the grass on a clear September morning. It is short for “goose summer”, a name once given to a dry warm spell later in the year, when geese are being fattened for Christmas; the cobwebs must have reminded people in the Middle Ages of floating, flimsy goose down. According to Green’s, this phrase was coined by Truman Capote in Breakfast at Tiffany’s in 1958; it also made an appearance in the 1961 film: English has two spellings of “jail”, both of which come from French. “Gaol” was a borrowing from northern or Norman French, while “jail” is from central or Parisian French. This type of double borrowing is not uncommon – “warranty” and “guarantee” both come from French, but entered English via different routes and at different times, as did “guardian” and “warden”, “pâté” and “paste”, “fete” and “feast”, and “chattel” and “cattle” (cattle were once so central to livelihoods that they became a token of all property, hence “goods and chattels”).

the mubble fubbles: Celebrity wordsmith Susie Dent on Year of the mubble fubbles: Celebrity wordsmith Susie Dent on

If you’ve basked in the joy of a frosty but sunny day, you might, like me, also rejoice in its name: “apricity” means the warmth of the sun in autumn or winter. This season also brings the cheering lexicon of conkers – from the “obblyonker” to the “cheggy”, the “kinger” to the “cheeser”. And, of course, we all look forward to the “quafftide” and “bellycheer” that come with Christmas. As it turns out, many of the happier siblings of words like these were once alive and well. “Kempt” is from the German for “combed”, and is a useful byword for being neat and tidy. The colours in this idiom, which is thought to have emerged in the direct aftermath of Camperdown, refer to nautical battle colours. If all of a ship’s masts were broken as a result of gunnery by the enemy, the captain had little alternative but to surrender. If, however, the captain decided to fight on, this was marked by hoisting his ship’s colours on the remnants of the rigging. Perhaps the greatest delight in writing the book was choosing lost gems or obscurities from the corners of the dictionary. I made many fresh discoveries along the way.

Pull the trigger of this unicorn-shaped bubble blaster and three things happen: it blows a continuous stream of beautiful bubbles, it plays enchanting music, and it lights up!