Normal family dysfunction

David and I had our strictly scheduled 2 hour date night tonight, and during our "date" we received the email update for Sam. Yes, I check my emails on my smart phone during date night, and yes, I know, I am a bad, bad wife. Give me a break; David was watching March madness too. So, during our date-night, we received a photo of Sam raising his hand at his desk (which is bright pink!), while standing up (and everyone else is seated). He looked like Horschack (spelling?) from Welcome Back Kotter. Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, Pick me!! So DARN CUTE. I wish that I could post the photos of our boys, but I signed a contract with our agency that I won't post their photos until they are legally our sons. Although virtually every other adoption blog has photos of waiting children, I signed the agreement to keep our sons' identities private, and I stick to my word. After looking at the new photos of Sam, we began to talk about our 6 sons, our aspirations for them, our dreams and hopes, and of course our own misspent youth. Yes, our dates are DEEP. Ha. Ha. Anyway, David's earliest traumatic memory is when he was in Kindergarten (or maybe first grade), and he brought a knife to the after-school program to cut the ropes on the tree fort they were building. He was accused of bringing a "weapon" and all that entailed (which was considerably less fuss 35 years ago, I'm sure).  David remembers being irate that someone would misunderstand his intent and accuse him of wrong doing. This small tale makes me appreciate even more how our sons must feel, when they are first adopted from China. We CONSTANTLY misunderstand them. They have different cultural norms, and when I flip out because they are spitting (I take it as the biggest insult ever!), or slurping their food, they get irate because I just don't understand them. Hmmm. Food for thought anyway.