When Violet sits on the couch, she stares intently at the space in front of our bookshelf on the other side of our coffee table. She coos and jabbers, smiles and waves her arms. This goes on for minutes at a time. If we turn her to face away from the bookshelf, she cranes her head to look back. The only things on the shelf are DVDs and our receiver. We’d like to think there’s some benevolent ghost entertaining our daughter– maybe my friend Herb who passed away a few years ago (He would’ve loved Violet and he was very entertaining). Or maybe she’s messing with us. Whatever it is, I’m jealous.