The youngest of our cats.
Sam was presumably born in Rochester, NY in 2004. My wife wanted a third cat. I didn't. She got one anyway. She picked him up at a shelter. While I wasn't happy with her trampling over me in her need to get a head start on becoming a crazy cat lady once I'm dead, Sam quickly wormed his way into my heart.
Sam remains the smallest of our cats, giving him the appearance of still being a kitten. Sam (named for director Sam Raimi) isn't a lap cat. The few times he's jumped in someone's lap, he's just looked confused about the situation and jumped back down. Sam is a shoulder cat. When he wants to get attention, he jumps up the front of people. Hopefully, they are expecting them. It can be startling to suddenly have a little orange fury face appear in front of yours. The jump also involves a moment of him scaling a person's chest like he's Spiderman. At our heights (6' in my case, 5'10" in my wife's), my wife and I have to catch him in our arms to keep him from falling back down. Sam gives a hurt look if he drops back down because we're not expecting him.
Even when he cuddles up to my wife at night to sleep, he has to curl around her head. He loves being around that area of the body, it's not just him enjoying being up high.