You know what I love? It’s when a baby is working up to a real pisser of a fit, avoiding eye contact and resisting being held and generally communicating that nothing you could ever say or do would make up for the wild injustice that has been done here today–and then you offer the baby something fairly basic, like a piece of cardboard that came in a package of shirts, and the tantrum shuts off like a switch. The baby is riveted, full rapt attention snap-focused on the item in a way that would only happen to me if you handed me a check for a million dollars. In fact, it couldn’t even be you handing me the check, it would have to be John Cusack, handing me the check while holding a boom box over his head–I guess the check would be in his teeth, which is even better. Also, it would have to be cash, not a check.