"But, you failed."

It is not uncommon at bedtime for Henry to talk about the night Charlie was born. It was a big night for all of us and the drama of it has obviously stayed with Henry.

When I ask him what he remembers most, he usually refers to the actual birth itself. Tonight he mentioned the fast drive to the hospital at 3:30 in the morning. He recalled that I complained about the bumpy ride and kept telling Brian to drive faster because, as Henry interpreted it, I wanted the baby to come out "perfect."

"But," Henry said, "you failed."

"What do you mean by 'failed'?"

"Well, don't you remember what Charlie looked like in the beginning?"