Take Your Son to Work Day

Today is what the local school system labels a Professional Day: teachers are relieved of their classes so that they have time to compose report cards. Alex has been dragged to my office, and you can read from the photograph his thrill level. His latest Facebook update: Help I am a prisoner in my dad's office.

Over a breakfast of asiago cheese bagel, he confided to me that he actually looks forward to such days, an interruption of schedule, a chance to eat his favorite foods, a day when he can hang out with people who are "not all that stuffy" (his words). Right now I am thinking how different this young man sharing my office is from the boy who, almost four years ago, helped me to move into this very room. He took an enormous cardboard box and positioned it by the main door, a sort of guard's booth that he dubbed the Fortress of Solitude. He demanded a password from all who sought to enter, and shot with a Nerf gun those who did not utter "pickle juice." A senior colleague was not at all amused to have her access to the copy machine be denied, but most others went along with the game.