In the event of an emergency, like if my head explodes from the raging caffeine-benadryl battle, my poor Smooch will be in major trouble. I’m pretty sure that no other person on the planet currently speaks his language, so here’s a quick list of some of the vitally important ones.
Points at the pantry doors and says BOO!: Please get me a Fruitabu. And unwrap it. Post-haste!
Throws himself at the doors of the fridge and says GURGUR! GURGUR!: Please open up this big white box and get me a yogurt, nectar of the Gods, pretty please?
Points at the shelves on the wall of the family room and says DEE-DEE!!!: Please let me scale the wall, grab a DVD, drop back down to the floor, run to the DVD player, jam the DVD in, and break both the DVD and the player! C’mon, please?
Runs down hallway, runs into bedroom, and slams door: Please come running after me, knock on the door, and then open the door. Act really, really surprised when I am the one behind the door and I shout “HA!” at you.
Grabs the remote control and says MEH-MO!!!!: Please turn on Sesame Street on Demand and fast-forward to the “Elmo’s World” part.
Grabs the remote control and says SHASHA!!!!: Please turn on Backyardigans. There are forty-five episodes on the TiVo. Pick one.
Grabs the remotes control and says FFFF!!! FFFF!!!! FFFFF!!!!: Please turn on Jack’s Big Music Show from Noggin On Demand. (Smooch thinks that dogs say “ffff” instead of “woof,” and he’s decided that JBMS is a dog show.)
Points at the top of the refrigerator, then wiggles butt and/or makes the “trucker pulling horn” motion: Please turn on the radio that’s up there, and make it LOUD, and dance with me!
Any motion or sound near a window: Please open up the blinds and/or the window itself and sit down with me and name every.single.object we see.
Frantic pointing toward (and grabbing at) cellphone, with or without crying, screaming, and biting: Please give me that phone and let me babble unintelligibly to whoever is on the other end! And do NOT, under any circumstances, think you can put them on speakerphone and continue your conversation over me. I will just pitch a major fit on the floor.
I think this covers most of the random signs and sounds Smooch has developed lately. If you hear of a caffeine-related head explosion emergency somewhere in the Midwest, please alert the media to check in here for clues.