"Your Very Own Robot" by J. Michael Norris I sat cross-legged in our foyer staring at the front door, daring the FedEx guy to stick a note on the outside and run off without knocking. I was sure he’d done that the past two days; how else did I miss those deliveries? I was on sabbatical; waiting for my son’s toy robot was all I had to do. One more missed attempt meant driving downtown for a pick-up, and that wasn’t going to happen. I positioned myself strategically on the foyer’s uneven tile, a discount terracotta my wife Channing and I picked seven years back when travertine seemed too expensive. Since our son Destin began his stays at Oschner Hospital, a room covered in travertine sounded like a good deal. When the FedEx guy finally knocked, I jumped up and threw open the door, hoping to catch him walking off so I could let him have it. Instead he smiled, handed me a package, then asked me to sign like everything was normal. I scratched my si...