The Last Lecture

The Last Lecture
that you may not ask one-word questions. Dylan embraces that idea. He
loves to formulate full-sentence questions, and his inquisitiveness goes
beyond his years. I remember his pre-school teachers raving about him,
telling us: “When you’re with Dylan you find yourself thinking: I want to
see what kind of adult this kid turns into.”
Dylan is also the king of curiosity. Wherever he is, he’s looking
somewhere else and thinking, “Hey, there’s something over there!
Let’s go look at it or touch it or take it apart.” If there’s a white picket
fence, some kids will take a stick to it and walk along listening to the
“thwack, thwack, thwack!” Dylan would go one better. He’d use the
stick to pry one of the pickets loose, and then he’d use the picket to
do the thwacking thing because it’s thicker and sounds better.
For his part, Logan makes everything an adventure. When he was
born, he got stuck in the birth canal. It took two doctors, pulling with
forceps, to bring him into the world. I remember one of the doctors,
his foot on the table, pulling with all his might. At one point the doctor
turned to me and said: “I’ve got chains and Clydesdales in the back if
this doesn’t work.”
It was a tough passage for Logan. Given how cramped he was for so
long in the birth canal, his arms weren’t moving just after he was born.
We were worried, but not for long. Once he started moving, he never
really stopped. He’s just this phenomenal ball of positive energy;
completely physical and gregarious. When he smiles, he smiles with his
whole face; he’s the ultimate Tigger. He’s also a kid who’s up for
everything and befriends everyone. He’s only three years old, but I’m
predicting he’ll be the social chair of his college fraternity.
Chloe, meanwhile, is all girl. I say that with a bit of awe because
until she came along, I couldn’t fathom what that meant. She was
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