My darling girl is destined for speech therapy. For all my fretting and worrying over my barely-verbal son who could now talk anyone into the ground, she is the stubborn one who I think needs help.
She's willing to work with me for about three tries and then she shuts down. We're getting closer on "l." Next up is "r" but the sounds that you make in the back of her throat - c, g, k - are no go.
She's pretty good at pronouncing words that don't contain any of those. Put a lot of them together and it gets interesting.
"Daddy when awe you donna be done with your Untle Mino?"
Hubby, through snorts of laughter: "My El Camino? Not for a while, Baby Girl."