Nonchalant, cool kid that you are,
you lift your hands and sign, "More drink," --
like it is nothing that you have just
produced a two-word request
without the assistance of technology
for the first time.
I flip out --
laughing and squealing and
squeezing you around the shoulders while I
shove the requested drink into your hand,
splashing juice onto the table --
and this time you don't have to sign --
I can see you thinking, "Crazy lady!
What are you shrieking about?
I always ask for a drink
with my baked potato."