“Look! You’re smoking right in front of him!” Octavian gestures to a small Felix, head buzzed, front teeth overlarge, who’s helpfully trying to persuade Kaia to play with her toys as a stream of smoke wafts directly into his eyes. Young Mom thanks him and calls him a big helper while Young Dad, who’s doing the recording this time, tells him to back off and let Kaia play with whatever she wants. Felix is standing on the back of a chair, hopping up and down excitedly. Young Dad tells him to cut it out, which he does. Present-Day Dad grimaces.

“This is why I have asthma now,” Felix informs Honeysuckle Lou. “Grandma, I can’t believe you blew smoke right into my face.”

“It was a different time.”

“Mom, you look hot,” Athena says. It’s true. Mom’s got short, flippy blond hair in this video, very sleek, with a black turtleneck and deep red lipstick.

“That’s weird,” one of her kids replies. “You can’t call your mom hot.”

“Why not? I’m your mom, and I’m hot.”

Mom sighs. “I was hot, wasn’t I.”

Dad tugs her to him. “You’ve always been hot and always will be.” I notice he’s exaggerating his accent. Mom smiles, snuggling against his side.

A small voice in the video pipes up. “Can I come out of time-out now?” And the camera swerves to land, predictably, on a little girl with black hair and a pink Popsicle stain around her mouth, perfectly dry but wearing a bathing suit. She’s sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, hands under her bottom, heels thumping the floor.

“Are you going to be good?” Young Dad asks.

“No.”

“Then you can’t come out of time-out.”

“See, she’s always been a gremlin,” Athena reminds us.

“It’s why we love her,” Kaia rejoins, reaching across Hall to grasp my hand for a few seconds. She pulls away, smiling.

Young Felix walks over and hugs little Bettie, gives her the baby doll Kaia doesn’t want anything to do with, and calls her his little buddy. We all go, “Awwww!”

The video goes black again and refocuses on a new scene. It’s my birthday.

“Do you remember that clock?” Mom asks Dad now, pointing at a clock on the wall in the background. “We lost that in the move to Fresno, didn’t we?”

“I thought we gave it away.”

“I wouldn’t have given that away. I miss that clock.”

“Look at that wallpaper. That is the ugliest wallpaper. I always hated it.”

“I loved that wallpaper!” Mom gapes at him as though he’s insulting one of their children. They continue to notice old stuff in the background that nobody else cares about, wondering where it’s all disappeared to. All the while, little Bettie is tearing into her presents with the help of Felix, who hands her each one and offers to get them out of their packaging. Young Dad tells him, a little snappishly, to back off and let little Bettie open her presents by herself. Present-Day Dad grimaces again.