Angel

And I don't mean the one atop our Christmas tree (which, by the way, is out on the sunporch -- viewable but not touchable).

I mean THAT ANGEL RIGHT THERE TO YOUR LEFT AND IN MY FLICKR PHOTOSTREAM (click the photo to see more).

I mean Johnny Angel, aka Buddy Snickums.

Last night we went to a holiday party for children of prisoners (at the church I've been attending). We took The Goose even though we knew it would cause him to stay up past his bedtime. I think he had more fun than he's ever had in his life. There were balloons and chairs to push around, kids his age and older (and younger), lots of people to smile and wave at, and all of this with Mom & Dad right there to cheer him on.

He was fearless: foot races from one end of the gym to the other with 10-year olds -- he's in! Gymnastics with purple-clad, 4th-grade girls -- oh yes! Extreme curiosity in one of the guest's wheelchairs -- it was almost too much!

He came home and did his usual loop around the house, checking to make sure everything is where it should be, pooped on cue (he always poops immediately upon arrival home from an exciting event), and sacked out sometime between 8:30 and 9:00 p.m. And silly ol' mom thought that would mean he'd sleep in a little today.

WRONG. 6:30 a.m. he was raring to go.

However, by 8:00 a.m. he was fading.

First, he was in denial, preparing his outdoor gear and bringing me his shoes:

Then, he got silly:

Next, he started sucking his thumb and rubbing his pants leg:

Finally, I found him in the kitchen, lying down on the floor with his truck:

That's what you call "pooped & poopy."

Now it's 9:16 a.m. and he's down for the count upstairs ... didn't even want to read a story ... went straight to his crib and attempted to climb on in.

What a guy!