My oldest son, Devon, has this way of showing his irritation with someone. It’s not that he says anything in words, per say, but it’s more of a noise.
Psshht.
It’s like telling them extendedly to shush with a P at the first and ending with a T. I find it fascinating. And the best part is that is seems to work on everyone. He doesn’t use it for slight irritations but more when either you are getting close to his last nerve or you’ve touched on some basic right or principle he holds dear.
Ty: Slug Bug Yellow. (punch)
Dev: Hey. I told you I’m not playing. Knock it off.
(Devon drinks half a gallon of chocolate milk right out of the container. I know this because I just saw him do it in the rear view mirror.)
Me: Ty. Remember in my car it’s Hug Bug?
Ty: (rolls his eyes) Oh, ya. I forgot. Pass me the milk, Dev.
Me: Hey! Are you guys really going to drink that whole thing right now? We’ve only owned it for less than 60 seconds. I’m not sure I’m ready to say goodbye to it yet!
Dev: I’m thirsty! Ty…pass it back.
Me: Well, don’t get sick by drinking it too fast.
Ty: Hug Bug Red! (His hand grabs my shoulder and gives it a squeeze.)
Me: Right on. (I look at Dev in the mirror again) No, I’m serious. Your stomach can only fit so much milk in it before you puke. Believe me. I’ve proved it. And I don’t want choco-milk all over the inside of my car.
Dev: Psshht! (Takes another big swig right when Ty goes to hug him for the Red Hug Bug. He raises his hand to fend off the assault while drinking and manages to only spill a dribble down his chin.)
Dev: PSSHHT! PSSHHT!