“The letter M is a very fun letter to create in sign language.” Misty curled three fingers around her thumb. “You can do it, too, Jackson.”
Jackson, who was only eighteen months old, did not seem particularly interested in the letter M or sign language. He had found one of Misty’s babydolls and was chewing on its hand.
“Jackson, don’t do that!” Misty’s voice was not harsh – she was never mean to a baby – but it was firm. She removed baby Serefina from her brother’s grip. Not to be deterred, Jackson turned and scooted on his bottom – a fancy alternative to crawling he had invented all on his own; he still wasn’t one to get up and walk if not necessary – over to Misty’s toybox.
Misty ignored him. “So far in sign language I can spell my name. M-I-S-T-Y.” She spoke slowly, only pronouncing the next letter when her hand had finally come under obedience enough to form the shape she could see so clearly in her mind’s eye – each letter of the alphabet had been demonstrated on a leaflet she had brought home from school.
“I’ll learn to spell your name next, okay Jackson?” Misty looked up from her hand. “Jackson?”
Jackson popped up from inside the toybox, the hand of a different babydoll in his mouth.
“Oh, Jackson!” Misty balled her hands into fists and placed them on her hips. “What am I going to do with you!”