Oh, gee, thank you!

I just watched Sam sleep for about 20 minutes, which is what I do every night for about 20 minutes (sometimes 50 minutes, when insomnia kicks in). Matt came in and we held hands in a little Sam-cradle. Awww, we're good parents. : )

I received a thank-you note today from my step-grandmother (my awesome step-mom's mom) for showing up at her house with my family for Easter, and eating all of her food. I'm ready now. Bring it, Louise. Next time I see you, no matter what the reason, I'm sending you a thank-you note. Sam and I stop by to play pool in your basement: you're getting a thank-you.

I love the thank-you note generation. I'm the last of the thank-you note generations, I'm afraid. Although I may not thank someone for coming over and eating, I certainly send thank you's, and I'm teaching Sam, with his little S. A. M. handwriting, to send them, too. For a little boy, he has beautiful manners.

Sam got his hair trimmed the other day, and I noticed another little boy doing the same. His mom allowed him to play on his DS the entire time. The stylist worked away, and the child (older than Sam, maybe age 8), never looked up. I was appalled. I told my dad the story and he said, "God forbid the little boy learn anything from that lady." So true. He continued, "Someone will ask him someday who cut his hair, and he'll say, "What? Someone cut my hair?""

I got my hair cut last weekend by a guy, and when I told him that my son has beautiful manners, he asked, "You say that to him?" I said, "I sure do, because I'm raising a sensitive, wonderful child who happens to love guns, swords, daggers and Spiderman."

My "stylist" seemed affronted. Sorry, dude.