Mixed Signals

Anna made a fabulous Italian soup tonight: spinach, tomatoes, sausage and some great spices. I enjoyed my bowl heartily - especially with the parmesan cheese from TJ's.

Throughout dinners, Anna and I usually try to carry on something like a conversation. However, Wyatt loves to interrupt these brief moments for us to actually dialogue by crying or whining. We patiently tell him to use the signs he knows to help us understand what he wants: signs like "eat," "please," "thank you," "milk," "water," and "more." Generally, it's a pretty good system. And I think it will serve him well when he enters those sulking teenage years. Perhaps - if nothing else - he can revert back to his "signing" days to communicate with two tired, frustrated parents.

Anyhow ...

Tonight, Wyatt uses the sign for "down" to tell us he's all through with dinner. Anna takes him down and he runs over to me to sit on my lap. (Don't ask me how or why, but Wyatt is absolutely thrilled to be around me right now ... love it.) I squeeze and hug him, but then he pleads "down" with quick gesticulations of the hand and arm. He runs over to Anna, begs to be picked up and Anna proceeds to swallow Wyatt into her own arms.

Then Wyatt looks at the table again where he sees Anna's bowl of soup laying there - empty aside from the remaining broth (which I was targeting as my last consumption). Wyatt ponders what it could be and offers a small grunt. Anna says, "that's soup."

At which point Wyatt reminds us once again why children are so wonderfully beautiful ... and an absolute joy to experience ...

Looking straight at the soup, and then up to Anna, Wyatt briskly makes one last sign. He puts his right thumb up in the air, sticks it into his left hand which is clinched into a fist, and proceeds to pull out his right thumb. Which, for those of you who don't know, is the universal sign for "poop."

Oh, nothing like a big bowl of poop on a fall night to make everyone happy.

Wes