Dinosaur, kǒnglóng.
The magnets are a red herring. The real kǒnglóng in our house is Miss Emerson, who roars and shrieks and stomps and generally does a spot-on impression of a pterodactyl or a velociraptor, depending on which of her parents you ask. But at any rate, a kǒnglóng for sure.
I wrote in Gastronomy about how Rich’s mom likes to tell me that Mandarin is so efficient — there aren’t extra words to remember like podiatrist or dentist, one just says foot doctor or teeth doctor. Kǒnglóng, however, literally translates to scary dragon. A little redundant for such an efficient language, no?
