Funny at 3 (though less so a dozen years from now, I'm sure)

We are at breakfast in our Stockholm hotel, a big smorgasboard affair offering abundant food spreads and yet precious little to eat. Evan is unbelievably squirmy, unable to sit still for more than two seconds. He has requested half a dozen food items, none of which he's eaten much of, and seems to be making eyes for even more delicacies which I am quite certain will go untouched.

"Evan, who are you?" I ask in mock exasperation as he uncharacteristically shifts in his seat for about the gazillionth time. Evan smiles with satisfaction as he reaches for his large mug of chocolate milk (no doubt the source of his fidgety behavior).

"I'm a drinking kind of man," he proclaims.