Not all kids are asked to interpret information that serious, but even a trip to the grocery store can be frustrating. And young interpreters can wield a great deal of control within their families, undermining their parents' discipline. "Kids can be very angry and impatient with their parents," said Guerlie Belizaire, a family counselor at the Haitian Center for Family Services, a nonprofit agency that provides resources to Haitian families, in Belle Glade, Fla. "It can be not only embarrassing, but very frustrating to help them. It takes a lot of maturity." A child can take on the role of family financial manager, for example, negotiating rent payments with the landlord and admonishing parents when they make missteps at the bank. "Some of the children who translate for their parents think they can reprimand them," said Marigdalia Rodriguez, a family service specialist at Head Start in West Palm Beach, Fla., who educates families in need of social services about available resources. "They say, 'Be quiet, Mom -- you don't know what you're talking about.'"

Maria and Roberto Garibay of Torrance, Calif., both machine operators, depend on their English-speaking twin 13-year-old sons, Felipe and Ray -- even though the Mexican transplants have lived in the United States for more than 20 years. "We ask them to help when we're going to the bank or making an appointment," said Roberto in Spanish, while watching a soccer game on TV in his cozy living room. "If we don't know how to say something, we ask them to speak for us." The twins have acted as their parents' English voices for so long, it's become routine. "We have to do it all the time," said Ray. "It's, like, normal."

Over the years, the Garibays have learned bits of English from their sons, but they haven't found time to take formal courses. Many immigrant parents -- some of whom juggle multiple jobs with odd hours -- can't afford to spend several hours a week in a classroom. "Sometimes I'm embarrassed that I don't speak English," Maria said. "I'd like to learn someday."

Esperance Joseph, 13, often morphs into a mini-mom with her 11-year-old brother, Emmanuel. The North Miami seventh-grader monitors his homework and grades because her Creole-speaking mother, Marie, can't read them. Yet she said her mother, who emigrated from Haiti 17 years ago, still rules the roost. "I can't take control," Esperance said. "Only she can say what goes."

Esperance said she once stopped short of lying about a bad grade she had received, recognizing that her mother would eventually find out. But many kids can't resist taking advantage of their linguistic prowess by inflating grades or tweaking teachers' negative comments. "I did that, like, once," said Ray Garibay, sitting in his living room surrounded by family portraits and academic trophies. "At a parent-teacher conference, my teacher said I talked too much. I told my mom, 'She says I'm a good student and participate a lot.'" At first Ray's mother bought the act, but eventually he confessed. "I didn't want to lie to her," he said. "I knew she would find out."

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