What's with the Frantic Gestures? I Heard You the First Time.

Someone is losing their hearing in this house, and it's not me.  Every time I want a bottle these days, Mom cups her right hand and taps it several times on her open-palm left hand and says, "Bottle?  You want a bottle?"  

"Yes, I want a bottle.  For the love of God, stop it with the phalanges modern dance routine and whip one up."

Dad does it, too, but he has a distinctly different style and often forgets to use one of his hands.  It tends to look like he is violently milking a cow or about to pound an invisible bottle into his face.  Then Mom starts showing him how to do the gesture correctly.  Meanwhile, I am left watching this train wreck and wondering when someone is going to make that bottle.  

Few things leave me speechless these days, but my word escapes me at moments like this.

"More?  You want more?" Mom asks me during dinner as she taps the closed fingers of her two hands together a few times.  

"Oh, I'm sorry.  Was staring wistfully at the spoon with my mouth wide open and drool running down my chin not clear enough for you?  Do I have to participate in your little game in order to get serviced around here?"

For the life of me, I cannot understand why they persist with these charades.  Recent data analysis reveals that they are getting nowhere.  

Success Rate of My Parents' Mode of Communication

Success Rate of My Mode of Communication

Between you and me, I have been practicing some new syllables in my head lately, and I fully intended to put a few of them together and try them out loud next week...maybe a "Mama" or "Daddy" or "guitar."  I guess that's not what these people want from me, though.  If we are all going to wave our hands around and make goofy faces instead of speaking English, so be it.  But don't get upset if my first word is "Scout."  

She's the only one in this house who doesn't insult my intelligence.


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