Deep in a conversation about major world issues with a six-year old a while back, I asked what languages he spoke.

"Creole, Anglaise," he said without missing a beat, "and a little English."

Yes, kids 'get' the language thing in ways adults can only guess.

This little boy's parents are South African, but from the age of about two he spent a great deal of time with his Seychellois nanny's family and is every bit as fluent in Creole as he is in his native tongue ... a fact that neither surprises nor impresses him. Shifting from one to another as conversations require is as automatic as right foot, left foot, and done without missing a beat, or even noticing the shift.

Without quite understanding why, he addresses his parents in English, lapsing into Creole occasionally ... or in mixed company, sometimes with amusing results.

I recall an interaction I witnessed when the father was not at all happy with the way the young man, about four at the time, had done up his trousers and was insisting he stand still and let dad do some rearranging.

"Les li!" the boy said, which means "Leave it alone!" in no uncertain terms.

Dad having very little Creole at his disposal answered, "We'll see Leslie later, but right now I'm going to get your pants zipped properly."

The fact that dad didn't actually understand a language that slipped easily out of his mouth didn't occur to the child. I suppose he just figured his father was a bit thick sometimes, or maybe intentionally missed the point when it served his parenting purpose.

My husband learned Creole twice, and spent much of his childhood speaking one language with his mother, and another with his dad. (Actually, he still does this.)

Mark's mom is British, his father, Seychellois. Creole was Mark's first language, picked up from the zillions of aunts, uncles and cousins who toted him around the family home on the beach when he was a baby. At the age of two, his parents moved him and his little sister to England where English was the only language he heard, and the one taught ever-so-stringently at school for the next few years.

At the age of eight, the family returned to Seychelles, so he needed to pick up his long-forgotten Creole again vitment. He remembers well the first Creole word he had down pat in the schoolyard: ase. Enough!

We speak mainly English at home, but Mark, who speaks Creole with his friends and co-workers, Granddad, Maman Bunah, and lot of others speak Creole with the kids. Sam understands just about everything in both languages, but answers Creole questions put to him in English. (Cj meows like a cat in both, but that's about all we've been able to establish so far.)