There’s TROUBLE…
…because Sam can’t buckle his seatbelt. Ever. Seriously, every time we get in the car he’s got some seatbelt drama. Stuck. Twisted. Wonky clasp. Too small. Too big. “I’M HAVING TROUBLE!” he calls.
…Sam is in a falling down phase. Notice the bandaged knees. There are matching cuts on his chin and elbows. He hits these “trouble spots” or falling down patterns about once every six months. Look out, ER!
… The new-haircut sheen, the lollipop stick out of the side of his mouth in James-Dean cigarette fashion, the cocky look in his eye…
Trouble.
LOL! This is too funny because he was trying to tell me something the other night in the truck every time we got in about his seat belt being twisted and tangled…..I thought he was just trying to get out of buckling.