Sam (Samuel when he's very bad)

I don't get much one to one time with Sam. It's not intentional, just the way it goes in a busy home with three children. The girls demand my attention much more and sometimes it's easy to forget the boy that lurks in his bedroom - music booming as he lies on his bed attached to his laptop (that only surgery could remove) surrounded by a sea of dirty socks and t-shirts left where they fell the night before. We seem to argue an awful lot too at the moment, mostly about silly trivial things (like socks on the floor) and the awful noise his sisters reward him with when he winds them up. Today though we were girl free so we took ourselves off for an amble together followed by tea (me) and hot chocolate (him) in a cafe. It was so nice to have that time together, to chat about this and that and just be an uncomplicated duo of mother and son. When I was looking through the pictures this evening I was reminded of a picture I have of him when he was about four taken in a cafe in Brighton. Every so often we would get up really early on a Sunday morning and drive to our favourite cafe for breakfast before taking a stroll on the beach. In it he has his characteristic wee grin and is stirring a small cup of hot chocolate.
Good times.

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