Cockeyed Optimist

Yup, that's me. I'm just a dope with a thing called hope. So I told you that I'd tell you how Sam's dance went. I'm sure YOU didn't get your hopes up ~ YOU probably rolled your eyes and thought "Yeah Cheryl, he'll tell you ALL about it." Hmph! Well, I can tell you he's home. That's it.
  He's home.
I asked him lots of questions, to which I received one word answers. Kinda like this:

Me, admittedly overenthusiastic, "Did you have a good time?"

Sam, "Yeah".

Me, "Did you dance?"

Sam, rolling his eyes, "Not slow."

Me, "So you did dance though. how? like what?"

Sam, "Depends"

Me, "What does it depend on?"

Sam, rolling eyes again, "The song." (This answer was in a distinct duh voice)

Me, "Who did you hang out with?"

Sam, "Lots of people."

That was it, I gave up then. The wordiest answer I could get was "Lots of people". He's eloquent isn't he? I realize that as a gender males have less words, but I would like to go on record as saying Sam is well below average in the proverbial "Word Bowl".
So, I leave you this evening with a few pictures of the children who cooperate. The ones who love me enough to talk to me. The ones who beg to spend time with me, especially if I'm making cookies that look like candy corn.

Disclaimer: Yes, of course I know Sam adores me. How could he not? I am the best mom HE'S ever had ;)