Monday, March 28, 2016

Big Boy Time

Sam has plowed forward from toddler to childhood with both fists swinging. Happy Fourth Birthday, son.

Uncharacteristically for the third-of-three-children, Sammy had the unique pleasure of having a birthday all to himself tonight. We stopped for cupcakes at Delicious on the way home, cooked his favorite stroganoff for desert, and opened and played with possibly the two most perfect presents for this little warrior (see below).

Jack and Caroline are now off at Camp Sparty, cavorting with Nana over Spring Break. We were all down in Sparty for the weekend for Easter, hanging with the fam.

We did up a big party for Sammy at lunch on Saturday, opened presents and sliced and diced the custom-made, '77-vintage Wilton-brand Batman cake. Matilda stayed up all night baking that cake - well, actually I didn't get started until I was sure that the UNC victory over Indy in the Sweet Sixteen had been cemented. Doc slaved away all morning getting the totally sweet icing job completed - the result? Perfection:


 Sam was duly impressed. It was just what he had requested. The icing on the cake, so to speak, was getting to spend nearly all of the next day ensconced in his the arms of his beloved Annelise.

Before we left, I was a little concerned that Sam would feel like he was missing out, not getting to spend time at Camp Sparty with the other kids. Three hours in the car later, having basked in the glow of having the iPad ALL TO HIMSELF (we did not hear one peep out of him the whole car ride) I was reassured that he would be OK.

So today, just the three of us - a concept that Sam is totally alright with, at least in the short term - we had ourselves a pretty good little day. It ended up, after popsicles at school and cupcakes at home, with Sammy beating the snot out of his new "Bad Guy" punching bag:

When he's not kicking this guys toosh, he steps back to launch a few arrows from his new bow and arrow set. The only disappointment? "Dad, I really wanted my own hatchet for my birthday," he says. Maybe next year, big guy.

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