Well, I read the kids the story of the tower of babble. I got them to work together building the tower. Honestly… you’d think they were already speaking different languages.
Mr. Hockey – “But I don’t want to put my blocks in the tower. They spell my name.”
Electric Lady – “STOP taking my blocks, Elasto-Boy.”
Elasto-Boy – “Well if you’d put them on the tower, I wouldn’t have to.”
Queen Bee – “NOOOOOO, make it higher.”
Elasto-Boy – “But it needs to be sturdy and making it higher will make it fall down.”
Mr. Hockey – “There goes my J.” *frown*
Queen Bee – “It was my J before I gave it to you.”
Electric Lady – “I said stop taking my blocks.”
Mr. Hockey – “And my A…” *frowns even bigger while protecting other letters from his brothers hands.*
And so on and so forth… I tried to get the point in that God gave different languages so they wouldn’t be able to make the tower any higher… but I think it was lost on them. Who needs different languages to cause miscommunication and arguing?