Dear Berkley: When You Scream Like A Little Girl, God Kills a Puppy

As Berkley continues to develop a personality and exert his independence with said personality, Courtney and I have both reveled in watching him become more of a real person, and less of a eating, pooping, sleeping machine. Unfortunately, this has recently come with a bit of... high-pitched-screaming-like-his-feet-are-fire-for-no- apparant-reason.

Happy? Why not scream about it?
Didn't get something you want? How about trying to lay on the floor and scream while Momma and I go about our business as if you don't exist.
Hey, you tired? Hungry? I've got an idea, you should scream about it.

As you scream, Daddy will be over here wondering if the doctor would report us for putting one of those collars that keep dogs from barking around your leg.

So, if you're thinking of having kids and can't wait until they can talk to you, just remember, that additional vocal dexterity goes both ways. Equally as sweet as the "Da-dy" you hear first thing in the morning when you get him out of bed is the fingernails-on-a-chalkboard scream of an 18 month old trying to say "Hey mfer, did you not see that was Yo Gabba is on TV? GO BACK!"