Bad Bad Bad

My son has a very dramatic way of explaining the world through a series of signs (taught to him by his aunt), motions, dance moves and a limited verbal vocabulary. One evening he was very adamant about telling momma a story. Here’s what I got . . .

“YaYa, me,” marching with high knees from garage door to coffee table, spin in circle, “No diapu,” points to botton, jump, squat, jump, squat, bicep curls, raises hand as if being sworn in, “Bad, Bad, Bad,” points down to carpet, preforms sign for potty.

I guess that explains the puddle.