The video camera is stuffed in a bag with overnight clothes, tiny diapers, and the outfit he wore when leaving the hospital twenty-nine years ago. The trunk is filled with bags, pillows and car-seat-parts. Presents are wrapped for the siblings to exchange.

His memory long ago purged itself of the trials that come with a mewling baby. He admires the beautiful, rapidly-rising arc of life. A deep breath in. A deep breath out. Soon three more glorious years will pass.