I was both happy and sad that I was behind schedule replacing myself with a system that could do everything I could do. Sad because I was behind and happy because the tardiness extended my contract. Of course, if I could replace myself with a program, I could probably replace others, which would keep me employed, which made me happy.

My company sent me a Christmas tree program over the Internet. My kid loved the tree. She designed the ornaments and moved them to the tree with the mouse. It included some gifts, such as a virtual dollhouse, with flowered wallpaper for the family of virtual dolls.

Beneath the big tree's drooping branches, the virtual toys were tied with big golden ribbons that reflected the flashing lights and dangling bulbs. She could zoom in on one of the bulbs and see a distorted reflection of everything, including more bulbs reflecting everything endlessly. Well-written. The tree and the gifts could be saved to disk and reopened next year. I felt good about myself.

Christmas morning, while our daughter unbundled her new software, my wife and I snuggled by the video fireplace. She hugged me close and whispered that she would like another child, a fat baby brother for Darlene. I told her that she would have my complete cooperation. I would design one during lunch tomorrow.