Eventually Skype will be an incredible tool for keeping up with Bubby's daily doings. I imagine him ringing me up to share the latest on school happenings, requesting a little homework help (yeah, not likely since Megan's a teacher ... and far smarter than I am) and giving me a play-by-play of his latest game/match/round of golf.

Sooner than that will be Skype time involving the sharing of picture books, with each of us having our own copy of the same book so we can flip through the pages together; recitations of ABCs, numbers and maybe a song here and there; and tall tales he'll tell in a mostly gibberish language I won't understand but will happily nod my head in rapt attention to, eating up every syllable.

Our current Skype sessions, though, consist primarily of Megan trying to wrangle Bubby into a semi-still position in front of the camera for at least 15 seconds at a time so Jim and I can get a good look at him ... and he can realize Grandma and Grandpa are right there on the computer monitor, oohing and aahing and shouting "Bubby, Bubby! Hey, Bubby! How are you! Look at Grandma! We love you! Where's your eye? Show us your eye! What about your belly button? Where's ... Bubby's ... BELLY BUTTON? Show us your belly button!"

It's pretty limited verbal interaction. Bubby offers a grunt or giggle here and there to pacify his psycho grandparents, but he's mostly interested in the office supplies on the desk or Roxy (his dog), who wiggles and wags around the chair, begging to be part of the excitement.

But the visual interaction during our Skype sessions, like the one last night, provides me and Jim with exactly what we need: glimpses of our handsome, goofy, rapidly growing, desert-dwelling Bubby:

And that right there is what makes Skype the very best invention since multi-grain Cheerios!