I do. If you forced me to sit on my hands while talking, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t make a sound. It was one of the things Basil and Catherine noticed when I met Pat, my first mother; we use our hands the same way when we talk.
Basil does it, too, and tonight at the dinner table Catherine and I noticed a couple of his gestures with a fresh eye. Naturally, I must share with you.
The first one I refer to as The Penguin Swish. He punctuates certain parts of conversation by sending both hands out from his body with a quick flick of the wrists. It is a bit of Happy Feet meets Danny DeVito as the Batman villain.
Far more humorous is a similar move he used to highlight his description of an old high school chum whose Icelandic heritage was considered “exotic” back in the day. When he said “exotic,” Basil thrust both hands out from his sides and wiggled them in a kind of Bob Fosse jazz hands move that quickly had me laughing so hard tears ran down my face.
In fact, I couldn’t stop laughing, not when Catherine said, “Mom, it’s not THAT funny,” or even when Basil picked up his dinner plate and in a move that declared the meal most definitely over, began to clear the table.
It’s quite possible I’m in the doghouse for the night.