The young man standing in the middle of this handsome trio (I could be partial, though) is my fourth child, Sam. Today he is 21. (On the left is Tim, 19, and on the right is Joel, 17. It does not seem possible that they are that old, but if Sam is 21, then they are definitely that old.)
Once upon a time we called these three -- because they were the three youngest and were all boys -- the little boys. The three oldest were "the big kids." Original, I know. But Sam, Tim and Joel ceased to be "little" boys a long time ago. Joel is now the biggest of them all, even. But Sam was always the ringleader. And he still is -- he is better at most video games, he reads the fastest and he still wields the power: the Legos are still in his room and Tim and Joel and all their friends still automatically ask for permission before entering said room. They listen to him and seek his opinion about matters great and small.
We don't know what Sam will end up doing with his life -- he's not sure himself -- but we love him lots. He's smart and funny and cooks a mean chicken and rice casserole. Happy Birthday, Sam!