yesterday someone said to me "your little guy sure is happy." at the moment, my 3-year-old was singing at the top of his lungs, hitting a bottle cap with his hockey stick. if happiness can be measured in volume, than yes. my little guy is indeed happy. honestly, he is like no one i have ever met in my life. he truly dives into life, makes the most of every situation and does not let anything get him down. i keep thinking he's going to grow out of this happy-go-lucky philosophy of his. but i really hope he doesn't. yes, he's loud. yes, he's crazy. yes, he's ornery. but he's happy almost 100% of the time. sometimes i watch him, and i can tell he just loves the fact that he is alive. he's a great inspiration to me, and i love the whacky little man to pieces. sometimes my husband and i joke about how out of all those little sperms that could have been josh, the one that swam its way to the prize had spiked hair and was shaking its butt at the others as it sped off, laughing. that was how josh started, and i thank God for the crazy little punk sperm that got to win the race.