Sam-isms

Sam has a bad cold. He informed me this morning, "I have a sick."

He likes to count the basement steps when he goes up and down them. According to him, we have 20 steps to the basement. I told Bill we must have 14-foot ceilings downstairs. I think there are actually 13 steps, but Sam counts too fast (and usually skips 14, 15, and 16).

Sam wanted my attention yesterday, but I was in the middle of a conversation with Bill. Sam said (in a rather bossy voice), "Beth! Beth! Beth!" I looked down at him in surprise. He smiled and said, "I mean, Mom! Mom! Mom!"

Sam has been following Bill around the yard while he plants more grass and works on installing more underground sprinkling. On Saturday, he finished burying some hose and said to Sam, "Does it look nice?" Sam replied, "Yes. It's adorable."

Last night, Sam was coughing really hard after 11:30. I hauled out the prescription cough medicine (it's liquid gold), plugged in the Sudacare vapor plug (very nifty invention), and tried to comfort him. He wanted to know if he could get up yet. I told him it was very, very late, so then he asked me to sleep in bed with him. I took pity on him, because I knew he was miserable. I laid down next to him, and he says in a disgusted tone, "You forgot to turn on the music."

Sheesh. How does he put up with me?