The summer sun topped the horizon. My alarm clock’s bell rattled me to my senses. Our first born child cried. I slapped the button on the clock， slipped from my bed and stifled a scream， as my little toe caught the edge of the dresser.
　　Half asleep， I stumbled to the kitchen， opened the refrigerator door， grabbed the prepared bottle of formula， heated a pot of water and slipped the bottle into it.
　　I opened the door to my little girl’s room. She clung to the railing of her crib， stood on tiny unstable legs and smiled.
　　The odor from her diaper filled the room and made me gag.
　　I cleaned， dressed， carried her to the kitchen and retrieved her warm bottle.
　　She suckled. I tried to stay awake.
　　My wife Ginny woke and took over baby duties. I dressed for work. As I left the bedroom， I looked at the clock and frowned—evil annoying ringing thing.
　　Before bed that night， I unstrapped the watch from my arm， wound it up， put it on the dresser， turned， picked up the evil clock， turned it over and wound it up too. I hated it， but it did me a favor. It reminded me of things to be done. Every night I wound it to wake me in the morning. As much as I hated its clanging bell， I relied on its nagging clang to get my day started. Even worse， it didn’t have a snooze button. You had to get up after the first ring.
　　Electronics ended the days of winding my clocks. It’s all taken care of by amazing digital chips. I don’t need to worry about winding the clock or my watch.
　　Time moves on. The electronics keep up. A battery goes dead. The power goes out.
　　We’re lost. “What time is it？” I asked Ginny.
　　“I don’t know. The power is out and my watch battery went dead.”
　　“How did they manage in the past？”
　　“They wound the clock. Before that， they relied on the sun， roosters and other things.”
　　“I remember it as a chore. I sometimes forgot to wind it up and slept in the next morning and was late for work. Do you remember the other hand on the clock face， the red one for the alarm？”
　　“I forgot about that. It was a pain. People knew what to do， to know when to get up and when to go to bed. It was something we did every day.”
　　I smiled at the memories and groaned too.“It was a chore to wind the clock. I remember trying to sleep. I’d get paranoid and wondered if I pulled the button on the back of the clock， so the bell would ring. I’d reach out， half asleep and check several times before I was satisfied. Now I roll over and see the red dot in the lower right corner of the display and know it will rattle me awake in the morning.” 　　Ginny laughed， “I did the same.”
　　The clock is just one of many modern conveniences to make life easier for us， but do we really appreciate it？
　　We want to do what we want and when we want. We don’t like being told what to do. However， there comes a time when we must accept our obligations.
　　Few are without rule. We all need the clock.
　　夏日骄阳越过地平线。我的闹钟铃声喋喋不休地将我唤醒。我们头一胎的孩子哭了。我拍下闹钟上的按钮，从床上翻下来，小脚趾踢到了梳妆台的边缘， 想尖叫但还是闷忍下去了。
　　半醒之中，我蹒跚走到厨房，打开冰箱门，拿出一瓶准备好的配方奶，加热一锅热水，将瓶子放了进去。
　　我打开我那小女孩房间的门。她爬到婴儿床的扶栏边，不太稳地撑着细腿站了起来，微笑着。
　　她身上那尿布的气味充满了整个房间，让我一阵恶心。
　　我给她洗好，穿好，然后把她带到厨房，取回她那个温暖的瓶子。
　　她吮吸起来，我努力保持清醒。
　　我的妻子金妮起床接过照顾婴儿的责任。我则穿衣上班。当我离开卧室时，我看看闹钟，眉头一皱——邪恶、恼人的发声玩意儿。
　　那晚睡觉前，我从手腕上解下手表，上好发条，将其放置梳妆台上，转过身，拿起那个“恶魔”闹钟，翻过来，也上好发条。我讨厌它，但它帮了我一个忙。它提醒我有什么事要做。每晚我都会上发条让它第二天早上叫醒我。我无比讨厌它叮叮当当的铃声，我也同样无比依赖它那喋喋不休的叮当声来开始我的一天。更糟的是，它并没有瞌睡键，它一响你就得起来。
　　电子科技结束了我为闹钟上发条的日子。现在的闹钟全由不可思议的数码芯片来控制。我无需担忧要为闹钟或手表上发条了。
　　时间过去了。电子技术继续。电池耗尽了。没有电了。
　　我们都蒙了。“现在几点了？”我问金妮道。
　　“我不知道。没电了，我手表的电池耗尽了。”
　　“以前的人是怎么知道时间的呢？”
　　“他们给钟上发条。在那之前，他们依靠太阳、公鸡和其他事物。”
　　“我把记得给闹钟上发条当做是件日常杂务。我有时忘了上发条，睡到第二天早上，然后上班迟到了。你记得闹钟表面另外那根针吗？指示闹铃的红色那根。”
　　“我不记得了。那是一种痛苦。要想知道何时起床，何时睡觉，人们知道该做什么。那是我们每天要做的事。”
　　我对以往的记忆一笑置之，同时也为之叹息。“给闹钟上发条那是一件家务杂事。我记得自己尝试入睡，然后妄想症发作，怀疑自己是否将闹钟背面的按钮拉了下来，以便闹铃会响。我伸出手去，半醒之中，检查好几次，直到满意为止。然后我翻过身去，看到那个红点置于显示屏右下角那里，就知道第二天早上它会把我叫醒了。”
　　金妮大笑道：“我也这么干。”
　　闹钟只不过是众多使我们的生活更方便的现代产品之一，但我们真的对其表示感激吗？
　　我们想要做自己想做的事，想自己决定做事的时间。我们不喜欢被人提醒该做什么。然而，总有一个时间我们必须接受自己的义务。
　　无规矩不成方圆。我们都需要闹钟。