I keep encouraging Henry to work on speaking, because I like talking much better than crying, but until then, I'm continuing to work on understanding his cries. His "I'm a little hungry" cry is a bit of a whimper, like look at me! look at me! I might start really crying if you don't do something! His "I'm tired" cry is kind of like his I'm a little hungry cry, except he rubs his eyes, and looks like a crazed deer in headlights if he's really overtired.
Today, I went through my checklist. Hungry, no. Tired, yes, but refusing to stay sleeping. Burped, yes. Too hot? Too cold? Have a small piece of very pointy hay stuck to your junk? That was it. Too bad it took me two cut short naps to figure that one out. Apparently a little hay snuck in there when Chris changed his diaper on a hay-covered blanket in the car while we were at McMenamins for lunch. I felt terrible, kind of like the time he had a very pointy pine cone bit stuck in his back, under his shirt, and I just thought he didn't want to be in his carseat. Um, worst mother of the year award?
Bottom line (at least according to Henry): having a sharp pinecone gouge into your back is more uncomfortable than a pointy piece of hay stuck to a testicle, though the latter can certainly interrupt a nap.