“Pops!” The salutation is not limited to the emphatic, even rambunctious hellos of reunion after a few months of separation on opposite coasts, but also, when I’m already here, as a request for my attention to some matter of apparent urgency to him. Say, a proposal for my participation in some imaginary game involving fire trucks and daring rescues of pets, or for some contemplative question heavy on his 3- and 2/3-year-old mind. A couple of nights ago, on a drive down the highway, it was the latter, and the question was, “Pops! Why are there trees?” Laughing about this…