Last weekend Arthur was introduced to gingerbread and frosting. It wasn't exactly my idea, and the increased intake of sugar contributed to Arthur learning the word "cookie!" in about ten seconds. For the record, I have photos of Mark and my Mom introducing Arthur to the world of art as food as sugar.
As we put Arthur into the car seat to go home, he did a high-energy gyration that only little kids hyped up on sugar can do. It wasn't quite a scene out of The Exorcist , but it was close. I think we could have used him for the car's gyroscope.
Arthur has created his own sign for "snakes." We have a can of "Old Fashioned Peanut Brittle" that is -- you guessed it -- a can of springy snakes. Arthur has a fascination and a repulsion to it. He is always concerned that he knows where in the house the can of snakes is, and when he signs "more" for it and you ask him if you should open it (and launch the snakes) he quivers his head "no" and walks away at an oblique angle. Then he'll sign "more" again, and point to the can. If you do let the snakes fly, he becomes really excited and wants you to do it again.
It got worse when we re-issued a toddler's book of animals into the living room; it and a library book both have pictures of -- snakes! Simply turning to the page will elicit the "where is the can of snakes?" response.
I don't know where Arthur came up with this sign. It's not baby sign or ASL and if it were me, I'd simply pantomime a snake with my arm. No; Arthur has added "snakes" to his personal lexicon of made-up signs: he crosses his hands at the wrists and brings his fingers up to his throat as if both of his hands had been transformed into attack serpents. I'm slightly worried that he's going to give himself little hickeys (uh, no, doctor; he did that to himself...)