Such a little guy, you were. Generously blessed with adorableness. Huggable. Squeezable. Completely loveable. Nothing has changed in that regard; you're still my baby, always will be, and even when you're a grown-up man I'll always think of you in those railroad pants on the baby quilt Aunt Mary sewed, your sweet little toes, your outie belly button and that adorable chubby-wubby Mona Lisa smile on your beautiful face.
Happy 12th birthday, Sam-I-Am.