Ain't ain't a word, ain't ain't in the dictionary (although now it is!), and we ain't going to say ain't no more.
This is what I told Caden today. I think my Dad told me this when I was I young. All I know is that we weren't allowed to say ain't, and to this day that little word grates on my nerves. Something about it bothers me, and now my child is saying it all the time.
Just today we were talking about another little boy and I said "He's 4 and a half, just like you."
Caden looks me in the eye, his big blue eyes glinting and his hair curly from the humidity and says "He ain't 4 and a half."
Ughh--is it best to ignore?