Tuesday, December 4th, 1962

Dear Diary,

This morning, before my father-in-law departed for the hospital to conduct follow-ups on his patients, T.J. was relentlessly pressuring his parents to purchase stock in AT&T for him. That boy consistently brings a smile to my face. Most twelve-year-old boys, though I admit my experience with that age group is limited, would typically clamor for things like baseball card collections, the latest G.I. Joe action figures, or new model race cars. But T.J. is different. He takes pleasure in analyzing the daily fluctuations of the stock market and meticulously saves his allowance money specifically for investment purposes. I fully anticipate that he will, one day, possess a rather substantial savings account.

This afternoon, I accompanied my mother-in-law to the home of a friend of hers who is unwell, where I offered assistance with some housekeeping. I was astonished that Barbra permitted me to handle the vacuuming, as she generally discourages me from performing that chore at her own home. (I may never quite understand her reason for that.) I must confess that once we returned to the Fisher residence, I immediately succumbed to exhaustion and took a nap. The pregnancy demands a great deal of my energy, and Barbra assured me that it is perfectly normal for expectant women.

Tomorrow evening, Colten and I will escort Clinton to see Santa Claus. I read in the newspaper that Saint Nick is scheduled to appear at Sears from 7 p.m. to 8 p.m. I anticipate a considerable line, so we will need to arrive early to secure a place in line and ensure Clinton gets his chance to meet the gentleman. After all, he has been discussing Santa with palpable excitement ever since we put up the Christmas tree.