February 17, 2003
I dragged my two-year-old to my office at Novell Sunday evening so that I could grab some craft magnets that I knew were stuck to my white-board (I don't remember where they came from -- they were just one of those 'office detritus' things that turned up and got stuck someplace on the outside chance that they'd be useful), and the two of us had a grand old time. We played spiff-ball (IBM Netfinity spiff, BrainShare '99), run in the hallway, and 'no.' On our way back out we walked down the hall adjacent to the data-center, and my daughter turned and said "Oooh! Wow!"I looked through the glass wall and smiled. She'd been captivated by a pretty impressive display of blinkenlights on the many-and-varied switches, hubs, routers, blades, and other conglomerated gizmological whatnot. Obviously, she's got good taste. I pointed and said "data center."
"dunny sunna," she repeated in flawless toddlerese.
"Data," I said, enunciating clearly.
"dutty," she replied.
"Center," I finished.
"senna," she repeated dutifully.
"Very good," I said.
"Daddy center," she concluded.
We departed in mutual satisfaction. She'd learned a new word, and I'd moved up a notch in her estimation. After all, those magnificent blinkenlights were named after ME.