Overheard from Katie's room while putting away the laundry upstairs:
Katie: Oh, heya, la laa falup tu ittty.
Ellie: Meya hi la oin fram is nally gram.
Katie: No! Tramish grati sabad oinala uti ma sulla!!
Ellie: NO! ME TROYA THAND IS SULLA!
That's when I whipped out my SuperMom cape and busted through the door.
(Start humming theme song to "Cops". I did.)
Me: HEY! Excuse me! I don't know what's going on in here, BUT IT STOPS! RIGHT! NOW!
Katie and Ellie: (looking like baby angels, puppies, teeny tiny chinchilla kits and scoops of vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles: all innocent like) What?
Me: (mom stare, you know the one, it comes with a disbelieving raised eyebrow) What. Are. You. Doing?
Katie: We're just speaking Spanish!
Ellie: Yeah! Like DORA! (add fluttering butterflies and rainbows here, because that's how people who are four years old talk)
And then I left, SuperMom cape metaphorically stuck firmly in the phone booth door.
Also, someone, please, tell me that there's a pair of siblings way off in Mexico City, sitting in their bedroom talking in complete nonsense, completely convinced they're speaking English. I have some pen pals for them.