Sammy turned 6 last week.
In case you were confused.
You might be confused, because Sam is often wise beyond his years.
He likes to make us notes and post them around the house. They might be lacking a certain Leonardo-ish-ness, but they are sage and pithy.
I'll start with my favorite, which was posted on the garage door when Jake and I came home from our Valentine dinner:
"Sam. Worst Valentine's Day ever. I want to run away." (Ross stopped sharing his balloons because Sam had already popped three of them. Running seemed the only option.)
Here's another holiday note, from a few days earlier:
"Valentine's Day Rocks. Love Stinks. To: Mom From: Sam."
HUH? Is too deep for me to fully grasp, I think.
This was plucked from under his pillow:
"Dear tooth fairy, my tooth fell in the Lego box. I am sad. Love, Sam."
(Our tooth fairy is super flaky. Turnaround time is often a week or more.)
And this one, in the Church bag:
"I love my home on erth."
On the reverse side:
"I have a dream that every day would be a fun day."
And finally, while on the way home from Chick-fil-A on Friday night, some advice on how to make friends:
Me: Jane, did you make a new friend in the play area? You are really good at making new friends.
Sam: Oh, Mom. I am sooo good at making friends! It is really easy. You just play with them, and play with them, and play with them, and then you have a new friend. That's how I got my girlfriend, Brunae. (He spelled it for me. I think he might not know his girlfriend's name.)
Happy 6th, Sammy! (Taken at the Beeson bonfire last month)
Here's to 94 more!