身边的同事聊起故乡，也总有这样的感叹。不过是隔了一段时日没回去，故乡就悄悄有了新变化。这变化，不是大刀阔斧改天换地，倒像是绣花，一针一线地，往这烟火人间里绣进些妥帖而温柔的针脚。
Why do I, my mother-in-law, and Nava all knock on wood? None of us really know. Perhaps it’s a legacy of the Bronze Age; perhaps it’s a meme from Victorian Britain. What is certain is that it’s not something a robot with an LLM-based brain is going to do habitually, just as robots will never share in mental frameworks deriving from quirks of our physical architecture, like handedness.
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There's no drastic divide between this trio. Like the "Father" family, they've drifted apart, seemingly content to have lives of their own. But in this household, their proximity practically itches. Lilith looks for ways to razz her sister, sparking a juvenile sibling rivalry that forces Tim into flushed retreat. But these intrusions and escapes are all in the gentle way of making nice. The tragedy of these moments is in how we can see their urge to connect and their fear to, all in a furtive glance, a choked laugh, or a licked bit of pastry.
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