Tonight I was reminded of my parents stories of assembling toys on the kitchen floor on Christmas Eve,
with my brother and me asleep in the other end of the house. In the middle of putting together the
baby's crib it occured to me that I was wielding the tools, my wife was reading the instructions and
the dogs were sprawled so they could watch their humans just as my parents have described went on in
their kitchen so many years ago. All I could think of was that in a few years it will be us in the
kitchen on Christmas Eve assembling toys for the child. We do indeed become our parents, don't we?

I do believe there are worse things in this world than that.