Ahem. The Language of Babies

Move over baby sign language. J.J. now communicates by clearing his throat.

It's surprisingly easy to translate:

Ah ah ah hem.

I'm awake and want out of the crib this instant.

Ah ah ah hem.

Now I want to see my Walt Disney snowglobe.

Ah ah ah hem.

I didn't say anything about my brothers touching the snowglobe.

Ah ah ah hem. AH AH AH HEM.

Access denied. I repeat access denied. Step away from the snowglobe.

Ah ah ah hem.

Now I'd like to inspect everything on that shelf. And I hearby declare a law against anything in this house being out of my reach.

Ah ah ah hem.

I wasn't finished with the snowglobe.

Ah ah ah hem.

I WASN'T FINISHED WITH THE SNOWGLOBE.

It's like we have this dignitary in the house. The throat clearing reminds the rest of us that we are dealing with a VIP.

He's saying, "I don't want to embarass anyone by stating the obvious...but...ah ah ah hem. The 7-layer salad has disappeared off my plate."

"Well, then," I say. "Allow me to give you a second helping."

It's amazing what you can communicate without talking. J.J. marches through the house, tummy out in front of him, holding Richie's action figure--Chewy Chewbacca--and clearing his throat.

Ah ah ah hem.

Excuse me, miss. This furry gentleman is ignoring me. Has he been informed of my dignitary status?

"Oh, hi J.J. Will you be my friend?" I say in a Chewy voice.

Oh. Never mind. Now he is speaking.

I've heard that 90-some percent of communication is nonverbal. With J.J., 100 percent is gutteral. I think I'm going to start speaking back in the same language.

Ah ah ah hem.

I want out of my crib.

Ah ah ah hem.

You haven't taken your nap yet.

Ah ah ah hem.

VIPs don't take naps.

Ah ah ah hem.

Go night night.

J.J. is sleeping even as we speak. I think throat clearing is my new language.