I don't notice it, of course, but my mom does. We're visiting my parents in Texas for spring break, and a couple of days ago Isaac asked my mom, "MamaSue, may I have a bul?"
"Whut are you talkin abowt?"
"You know. A bul, so I can pour my cereal in it and eat breakfast."
"Oh. Down here in Texas we call that a BAOWL."