My three sons had a run in with the chicken pox, so we were confined to the house for over a week. A couple of days into the battle with the varicella-zoster virus – after we’d had time to read that it is named that – my wife came down with a nasty case of the flu, so as she was trying to recuperate in bed I was flying solo. Our older kids basically lay around more sedate than I’ve ever seen them, trying not to scratch and listening to story tapes, but the 15-month-old spent his time improving his toddling and exploring his universe.

I have to admit that my initial take on this job was that I’d basically be following him around, keeping him out of trouble. I couldn’t have been any less correct in that limited assumption.

After I was stuck for a short time in this erroneous thought (a thankfully short time) I began to realize just how monumental and magical are all of the things he was doing. Everything he did was either new or something he’d done only a few times before. The entire world was fresh for him. . .