On a beautiful Saturday morning, around 6:30 A.M., Sam begins to stir in his play pen. You see, we’re at my folks house and when we sleep over, Sammy-boy gets the couch. Well, he gets the toddler equivalent anyways: the folding playpen. He’s not crazy about it, but after an exciting night with his Nanny and Grandpa, Sam is pooped out and sleeps pretty well regardless of his sleeping quarters. So the sun has barely crested the watery horizon when he decides that we should all wake up and start the day. He doesn’t just start crying and yelling like any other kid. No, our Sam stands up gripping the side of the pen, which lines up to about his nose, and with a hopeful voice blurts out: “Papa?!?” Yep, he asks for me. A house full of people, but he asks for me. Groggy Dad, who went to bed late watching movies, has to now get up and entertain, feed and change the alarmingly full diaper of his excited, wide-awake son. Now hearing him call my name in his clear, little voice as it cuts through the early morning quiet of the house is quite a heart warming thing to hear, it really is. The pamper-packer just woke up and he’s asking for me. I love it.
But I’d love it more around 7:30 or 8 o’clock! 
When that sun does shine it’s glorious beams of loving warmth, we get outdoors and have some fun! Sam loves being outside. He loves it so much in fact, that every evening when we arrive home after work, we unpack him out of the trunk and bring him into the house to eat supper. As soon as we cross our front door threshold, he loses it! Big tears roll down his reddening cheeks as he throws out a finger pointing back outside and gives one of his best “feel sorry for me” frowns. He doesn’t want to eat now, he wants to explore! Sam loves the trees and plans and flowers that make up our little yard and it’s as if he has to walk around to each one and say “Hi!”.
At one point, he didn’t like the stickiness on his face and he began some hardcore eye rubbing.
