Last night, stepping out from our friends' apartment into a cool, calm spring evening, my almost-four-year-old daughter had a concerned look on her face.

"I can hear the birds singing," she said.

"I know," I replied. "It's nice, huh?"

"But I can't hear anyone talking." Here she grew even more pensive, and stopped walking. "It needs to be NOISY."

Good lord, we've raised a city kid.

AuthorJohn Proctor