20 Years Later

Our three-and-a-half-year-old, M. Edium, just graduated to a real-live big-boy bed. It's the Kura from Ikea, and we've got it set up with a matress up top and one flat on the floor below. He loves it, but between one obstacle and another, it literally took me all day Saturday to assemble the thing. We were planning to go to my 20-year high school reunion that evening, and when people asked me what I've been doing for the past two decades, I was fully prepared to answer, "Putting that accursed bed together." If we made it there at all, that is.

But we made it, and my wife brought a handy item for any parent at a large gathering of adults. It's a little mini-photo album, about the size of a credit card, bound and filled with picures of our son. Of course I wasn't shy about whipping out my own paltry wallet shot, but the little album really creates a much more complete picture, if you'll pardon the expression.

I wish I could tell you where you could buy your own, but the sad fact is that she was given it by a coworker, who made it for her by hand for Christmas last year. So alas, the best advice I can give you is to be married to someone who has crafty, thoughtful, and generous coworkers.

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20 Years Later

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