You saw me with shaving lather all over my face and started giggling. In a few minutes when I had shaved most of it, you saw me again and were a bit confused as to where all the foam had gone. "How does that work!?" you part commented and part asked. A phrase, I thought, as tall and meaning laden as your whole almost-three-year-old self! Most of these evenings your mom puts you to bed, reading you stories. Sometimes, you would ask her to call me on my phone downstairs to get milk for you. You would softly whisper the bare minimum of words - "Dad ! Milk!" Your mom and I would secretly agree amongst the two of us if you do need the milk right then or if it should wait for some more time. I could then take your bottle of milk with me later on and push it in your hands for you to have it in your sleep. It happened again today - your mom called and you asked for the bottle. As always, I asked you to close your eyes and wait for me. I didn't ...