As we waited in the hospital waiting area, he was drawing pictures in a little note book. He showed me his drawings of friends playing on a playground and told me the name of each friend. The second time he showed me his artwork he said, "If my Dad wasn't my dad, or if I had a different dad, I could be with my friends and go to school." There was no anger in his voice, no sadness, nor emotion. It was just the way it was - life as he knew it.