Our little fellow has many animal guises: The Chicken Man: His first animal incarnation, inspired by the position newborns find themselves in due to being squished into a ball for so long: a roasting chicken. It is sadly a position that he's growing out of, but he is, at this moment, sitting on Dad's chest curled up like a trussed bird. It's adorable.
The Bat: This is when he hunts the wiley and elusive nipple. He shakes his head back and forth, snorts and growls, scrunches up his face, squints his eyes and hovers cagily before he strikes. Funny and terrifying.
The Monkey Man: Getting down to his simian roots. He will always be the monkey man, no matter what phase of life.
He also has many gestures:
The Papal Wave: Where he blesses the heathen unwashed.
The Conductor: Both hands, waving in the breeze to the beat of his own orchestra.
Stevie Wonder: Yep. The head roll.
The Professor: Index finger up in the air, paused as if to say, "I will explain it to you in simple terms since you seem to be of a simple nature."
Monty Burns: Both hands curled up at his chest like a small rat. "Excellent."
The Dilettante: Pinky in the air, as he pontificates on Cezanne's early period.
The Star: Hand up in a casual pretentious way: "No autographs, please."
The Go-Go Dancer: Throws both arms over his head back and forth as if he's doing "The Monkey."
The Hesher: Index and pinky finger up, rest of his fingers down. "Molly Hatchet rocks, dude!"