Sam…

…busy, buzzy Sam. While I putter around the kitchen, making breakfast for 4 little boys and putting some tea on to brew, Sam chatters.

“Mmmhmm?” I say. Or “Really?” And sometimes a “Well, my goodness!”

Whatever it takes to keep his sweet face smiling while I go about my routine. It’s all that is required most of the time, but this morning, he seems to be repeating a request and there’s a tug on my pant leg.

“Jack not go with me, but you follow me?”

I take a moment to ascertain that I’m between tasks and decide there’s no harm in seeing what he’s up to. He takes my hand and leads me down the hall, his bare feet slap, slap, slapping out the rhythm to the tune I’ve labeled “Little Boy Walking.” I make a note to remember how much I love this sound just in time to realize we’ve arrived. In the powder room at the end of the hall, we find a stash of treasures that would make Aladdin proud. There’s a stuffed dog with crinkly ears, a blue car and a red one, and a huge plastic ring he chose for his prize during the Candy Corn Bingo game at church. He names each one as he gathers it into his arms, then smiles his big, toothy grin to let me know we’ve accomplished our objective.

We turn together and head back toward the kitchen. Slap, slap, slap — Stop!

I look down and raise a questioning eyebrow.

“Mommy, you hold ‘dis so I can hold your hand?”

We make the transfer — crinkly-eared dog, red car, then the blue. Finally, tongue between his teeth, he slips the ring on my index finger, and looks up at me expectantly.

“Wonderful!” I say. “Now we can hold hands!”

Sam slips his warm hand in mine. I feel his little fingers squeeze. Slap, slap, slap. He hums a happy song to himself and I smile…and try to walk a little slower.