Blarga flarga schnarga. . .

Do you remember the old Looney Toons that had Yosemite Sam? I used to LOVE it when he would get so angry that he’d just start blabbering his curses. As I grew up, whenever I got that angry or wanted to describe someone as being that angry, I would scream, “Blarga flarga schnarga barga.”

Recently, the Animal has begun illustrating his own temper. I wonder what it sounds like in his almost-9-month old head when he wants to just scream at the world because he fell or can’t reach a toy or can’t go outside. I imagine that it sounds something like ol’ Sam – – just a bunch of rambling nonsense words.

The most recent frustration the Animal has is not being able to get outside and walk around. Now, it mostly boils down to two things: 1. It’s not warm enough to just go outside and play, and, most importantly, 2. He can’t walk.

So, to try to provide him with some semblance of outside time, I open the front door or the dining room windows to let him think he’s out there. Luckily, enough cars go by the front of the house that he can wave and yell at the “zoom zooms.” And he grins when our flag moves in the wind.

Then, suddenly, he realizes that he’s not actually out there, and he loses composure. Growling is new. As is uncontrollable sobbing for a few moments.

I want to teach him to say, “Blarga flarga schnarga barga,” just to give him something to work with.