Irene Bella

A couple of days ago me and my mum were watching my sister Irene as she was playing in the baby-gym. Here is the conversation I had with my mum while watching:
-Irene bella, I said and looked at my mum
-Jà Irene er falleg stelpa (yes, Irene is a beautiful girl) said my mum and smiled at me
-Irene bella, I repeated and looked again at my mum.
-Si, Irene è bella, Irene er falleg, said my mum and smiled, finding my comments rather cute
-Irene BELLA, I said once again and this time I stared at Irene
-Si, Irene bella, said my mum and started to be tired of the repetitive nature of the conversation
-Irene BELLA, I said for one last time -and if it wasn't for the fact that my mum was a goal-keeper in her youth and still preserves the good reflex necessary to keep the goal clean, then my hand would have hit Irene straight on her head. Instead my mum grabbed my hand and so prevented a small disaster happening. My mum was about to scold me, but right then it dawned on her that she had actually given me the permission to hit Irene. I had not been talking to my mum in italian, as she thought, but had repeatedly said Irene berja (hit irene) -and that was just what I intended to do!