When my daughter was four she informed her grandma that when she had a baby of her own, her mother would be a grandma. “And what will I be?” her grandma asked. “You’ll be dead,” was the reply. I wrote this down in a notebook, back when I was inclined to write down every little quip and comment the children made. But then the cute comments started rolling in so thick and fast that I gave up on the whole enterprise. Plus, a little voice inside my head was whispering, “You’re living in the past, man.” This notebook is made of recycled paper and old Little Golden Book covers.