our own little sampson

oren grew some hair this past year–he hasn’t had a haircut since april 2011, and it seems to be a big deal for him to have long hair. daily he reminds me that his hair is the longest in the family–even longer than mine! and somehow, like sampson gained strength with the length of his hair, oren gains the ability to say his Rs with the length of his. one recent evening, curled up in his bed as he readied himself for la-la land, oren and i┬áhad a conversation about porridge, a very inane conversation that i’m convinced came about just so he could say the word porridge over and over again, rolling his Rs.

oren: mommy, what is poRRidge?

me: it’s like oatmeal, or hot cereal… or something.

oren: are there lumps in poRRidge?

me: i don’t know… it depends on how you cook it.

oren: is poRRidge like the stuff aunt jean gave us?

me: no, that was pudding.

oren: oh. then what’s poRRidge?

me: oren, have you been listening to a word i’ve said?

oren: what?