I just uploaded about 200 pictures from my phone, mostly of Leo. That's not to mention the 1,000 pictures on my wife's phone, and Lord only knows how many are on the phones belonging to my two teenage stepdaughters.

Oh, and then there are the cameras.

I'd say that in the seven months since Leo was born, his picture has been taken an average of about 20 times a day.

How many baby pictures do you have from your childhood? I think I have about a dozen. Maybe. Okay, more than that, but not really all that much.

Pictures used to be special, remember? They took preparation, a little luck, and time to develop. Hours, if you were lucky. Days, more likely.

Polaroids were called "instant" cameras because you could see the picture within minutes of taking it. There was even a delete option: it was called the trash can, but you never wanted to throw the picture out because, no matter how lousy it was, the film cost so much that you didn't want to admit you screwed up.

Could you imagine waiting minutes to see the pictures you just took? Or not being able to delete a blurry image or one you just don't like?

Let's face it: We're spoiled. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. I don't want to go back to the days of educated guesses and crossing fingers, hoping the picture came out okay, condemned to wait hours or days before knowing for sure.

But I have to admit that I'm concerned for Leo and for the girls. Flooded by photographs of themselves, will they ever appreciate them? They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but what are a thousand pictures worth?

Considerably less, I fear.