“Make him stop that noise!”
It was not the first time I would hear a relative utter that critical demand in early 1961 while gathered for a meal in the McKayStreet dining room.
I looked over to see four-year-old, D.J. savoring his mashed potatoes and gravy. The demand could just as well been, “Stop the sun from shining!”
His hum came at various times, when playing with a toy in the backyard sandbox or when noticing a bird sitting in the Horse Apple tree at the edge of the side garden. Anytime he was pleased with his young life, I would hear the hum.
Although I had taught D.J. to walk and talk, I did not teach or encourage his hum. I think the habit hearkened back to the days when an ancestor child first nibbled the delicacy of protein on a pre-cooked dinosaur bone.
After his pediatrician had given me instructions that I should now introduce solid food into my infant son’s diet, he sat on my lap for his first “pablum” breakfast with a baby bib around his neck. He greeted the first spoonful with a wiggle of his toes and then the hum. More spoonfuls were greeted by eager bounces and continued hums. This happy infant had expressed his appreciation for the benefits of daily nutrition! And his Mother came to look forward to acknowledging a contented message when she heard it.
The adult son does not know I still listen and am pleased when I hear him say, “Hmmmm…” before he gives an answer to a question or prefaces the tasting of a favorite dessert with a soft, “Hmmmmm.”
I often smile to myself and think about dinosaurs, dining room tables, and disturbed relatives. And the Hums go on!