He blinks at the small voice as he turns his head to look for the source of it. He smiles at the pretty girl, still trying to fathom that she was likely one of the many born just a week before. "It's... a scrapbook," he says, wondering the best way to explain some of this. "Was waiting under the tree for me for the holiday. Supposed to be some of my old memories that I just don't remember, I guess."

He nods toward her book. "What's that you've got there?"