Mr. Whineypants

Something is up with Samuel. I chalked it all up to his lack of sleep over the weekend, all the excitement, people he wasn't used to being around. So why isn't he more normal today, after sleeping 12 hours overnight?

He doesn't want to eat meals, even ones he usually likes. He cries. He screams. He throws himself on the ground. Yet, somehow, as tiring as it is, I feel sorry for him. Something is not right. Whatever it is, I'm ready for it to pass.

Why is it that when things are happening to me, I make a mental note to mention it here, but when I sit down to write, it all seems kinda trivial and stupid?