Math

Samson + cake (just a little, from his friend Ethan's 1st birthday party) - afternoon nap + 5 o'clock Mass = lots of people turning around in church to see who is causing the ruckus.

He was crazy, and not just garden-variety crazy, but cray-zhay (think the pronunciation of the singer from Fine Young Cannibals). If I were his teacher and had to write a note home, I'd say "he was experimenting with acoustics." Since I'm his dad, I can be honest and just say it: he was yelling in church. A lot. And really loudly.

We always sit in the back --- Samson usually needs a break at some point during Mass --- so I get a good view of the congregation and am always amazed at the number of kids who are sound asleep on their parents' shoulders. I like to think their parents have drugged them on the car ride over, but I know I'm just kidding myself. Maybe we should load him up on turkey beforehand.

If nothing else, he keeps the ushers on their toes (no close calls this week, but he made a pretty good grab at the collection basket last Sunday).