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Sam finished his dinner – half of a pizza and four fried mozzarella cheese sticks – and pushed his plate back with a long, lugubrious sigh.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I asked. “Tummy hurt?”

“No. I want . . .,” Sam began, but then trailed off as he contemplated what exactly it was that he wanted.

“Ice cream?” I suggested.

“No,” he said firmly.

“A pony?” George asked.

“No.”

“A dinosaur?” I said.

“No.”

“An elephant?”

“No.”

“A giraffe?”

“No.”

“A donkey?”

“No.”

“A hippopotamus?”

“No.”

“Your very own flat screened television for your bedroom?” I finally asked.

“N- . . . YES!” Sam exclaimed.

“Yeah, dream on, kid. Come on, it's bath time.”

Posted 01 June 2007 at 07:45 PM