I wish I could have recorded what happened today, haha. Since he's more alert, he's trying to communicate with us. Trouble is, we suck at charades where your hands are covered in mittens. His mother and I tried and tried to figure out what he was trying to tell us, but we never did. At least I don't think we did. We even got him a pen and paper, but he's been so drugged for so long, he couldn't write. He *thought* he was writing though. It was funny in a pitiful way. And once he's able to talk to us again, I'm sure the first thing he'll say is "what the **** is wrong with you people??"