8:06 am, Saturday morning. The phone rings. I'm still leaving it on at night, even on the weekends when anyone who knows me knows not to call. So this couldn't be anyone I want to talk to, right? Right. Wrong number.

9:23 am. Ring, ring. That's more like it, although I'm still in bed. In fact, I'm in the middle of a dream. I know it's a dream because Eddie Griffin is playing a door-to-door bible salesman. Since I hardly ever watch his movies, it has to be a dream (and kind of a weird one at that). I don't know who played the old lady in the apron. Maybe that part was real.

No, I don't think so.

Anyway, ring, ring. A recorded voice tells me I need to know something about health care. What I really need to know is, how can I get back to sleep? That would be the healthiest thing for me at that point.

But no, it's time to get up, and I'm in a thousand percent better mood than I was yesterday. Even with the interruptions, I must have had enough sleep to overcome the deficit.

So I spend the morning puttering around the house at half speed. That's my idea of how to spend a Saturday morning.

Saturday afternoon: I take Mom to the big electronic store out on Santa Rosa Avenue to get a new microwave. Her old one "exploded" last night, she tells me. She got her money out of it, though. She bought it for $25 from a friend who was moving away, and she's had it for several years.

Amazingly, the model they had on sale in the online ad is in stock, and we walk out of the store and it fits in my trunk and when we get it back to her house and plug it in, it works! That's quite a step up from last weekend's purchase of the snotty photo printer that refused to talk to my computer. I'm vindicated!

And Saturday night: Tammy phones to invite me over to hang out. I have a Father's Day present for David on his first Father's Day, and some photos to give them. Also, pudding cups. Also, all three kids are there and I need (a) some new pictures and (2) a little time chasing the big boys around the back yard and a little time staring into Aiden's bright little eyes. And Eric is there, too! It's an all purpose visit.

All three of the boys are in good moods. Dakota has been sick, and then when he was getting well he was a little cranky, but today he's neither. He calls me "Uncle Mike" for the first time and just about melts my heart. We play our little game in the yard where he pretends to hide and then I scoop him up on my shoulder. By the time we've been doing this for a few minutes, he's pointing and saying "Uncle Mike" every time I peek around the corner of the house to let him know I'm sneaking up on him.

D.J. is hilarious, as always. You never know what he's going to do or say. Sometimes even after he says it, you're still scratching your head. He's had his two-wheeler for a week and a half, and he already rides it fearlessly without training wheels. (Possibly a little too fearlessly.) He bounces the ball off the slanted roof and then bumps it off the top of his head when it comes down. Then he turns to us and takes a bow. (We applaud on cue, of course.)

And Aiden? Only the best baby in the world, as I'm sure you already know. He will be three weeks old on Tuesday, but he's already lifting his head up and looking around when he's lying on his belly. He's using his itty bitty arms to try to move, and he's making movements with his mouth as if he has something important he wants to say.

I won't say he never cries, but he's mostly content with his lot in life. (And why wouldn't he be?) He fusses a little sometimes, but he doesn't complain much. He gets the hiccups, and that pisses him off, but other than that he seems to enjoy being out in the world. I'm glad of that, because we waited a long time for him. Maybe it doesn't seem so long now, but it sure did at the time.

So it was a good day, and a good night. I've stockpiled some photos, so you'll be force fed kidpix over the next few days. I'm sure you can deal with it.