Last night I had a date with Sam.
He’s eight weeks old and very, very handsome. He wore a striped sleeper with a red crab on his bottom.
Oh, he wasn’t as excited about our date as I was. In fact, he was sound asleep on his daddy’s chest when I arrived. And then he snuggled with his mommy and had dinner.
But after dinner? He was mine, all mine. While his parents cleaned up the dishes, Sam and I looked out the windows. We talked about rocks and monkeys and fog. We watched the first one-on-one date of “The Bachelorette”. I learned that Sam doesn’t like wet diapers. He doesn’t mind burping, spitting up, having his nose wiped or sneezing.
He’s a laid back kind of guy. Just my type.