This morning, Toby was the first one awake. He padded down the hall, squinting in the bright light of the kitchen where Stephanie and I were talking. “Mommy,” he said, “I had a dream about me and Jacob and Dad.”

“Oh yeah? Was it a good dream or a bad dream?” she asks.

“A good dream.”

“That’s great Toby. What was it about?"

“Me and Jacob were playing bugs.”

“What was Dad doing?”

“He was zapping us.”

Well, that sounds about right.