I made you watch the inauguration with me today. You were so bored - too much talking, not a princess in sight, lots of lofty discussion of issues of which you have no awareness. I made you watch with me mostly because I wanted to watch, and because forcing you to sit on my lap was the easiest way to control you for the hour I wanted to dedicate to the television. And now, if you ever ask me where you were and what you did on this day, I will tell you that you watched, that you were excited to see Mr. Obama become president, that you thought Aretha Franklin sang funny. But I hope that you will never ask me that question. I hope that by the time you can be bothered to wonder about such things the historical significance of this day will be lost on you. It is because it matters so much that I am able to hope to raise you into a world where it doesn't matter at all. You are the one with the opportunity, the responsibility to see that that happens. I can't wait to see what you do with it.