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My first born child rarely smiles.  He was a terribly serious baby, watching intently as his mother – and the rest of the women in his family – heaped worshipful adoration upon him.  He is focused, he is witty, he is intensely, endlessly, sometimes it seems infinitely, verbal.

But rarely does he go about the world cheerfully.

He reads while he walks:

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He is quite serious about his favorite food, pizza:

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Rare is the smile from this beloved, even when he clearly holds the world in his hands:

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He is also seriously rude to his loving little sister, but thankfully he is equally serious about loving her back:

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According to the Oxford English Dictionary, “somber” derives from the Latin “sub,” for “under,” and “umbra,” for “shade.”  I love this origin.  Under shade, dwelling away from the light.  After all it is only by accepting, even reveling, in the dark passages that we may appreciate the clear brilliance of the sun.  I think my first born innately understands this.

Or perhaps he is just a little grumpy.

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