No one can accuse Schnur, of Scarsdale, N.Y., of leading an unexamined life. As these sensitive essays on growing up, marriage, and parenthood attest, he has kept open his eyes, heart, and mind, and discovered the richness to be found in life's everyday occurrences. An event as mundane as home milk delivery is graced by Schnur with a touch of wistful magic: ""Something irresistible, something warm and comforting in the thought of finding fresh milk on my doorstep. That simple act seemed to make a loving mother of an otherwise indifferent world. Who could fail to be cheered by such a discovery first thing in the morning?"" Thoroughly touching is ""Baby Talk,"" his joyous recollection of the music of his first child's infant, babbling: ""Whoever said that children should be seen and not heard simply wasn't listening."" There is a sharply poignant section re-calling his family's move to the country when he was eight, a move later mirrored by his leaving for college and entering adulthood. There is also a delightful bit on the breakdown of his 25-year-old washing machine: it would take six weeks to (maybe) find a $25 replacement part; in a few days he could have a new $400 machine. ""Postindustrial patsy"" that he is, what does he decide? Another entry is a heart-rending, bittersweet passage on the death of his grandfather and the subsequent emotional return to the old country by his mother and grandmother. In still another, the revelation that his parents had lost a child before he was born becomes counterpoint to the anticipation of his first child. The book's silly title belies the richness, depth, and artistry here. A far better book than Thomas Trowbridge's rival Father's Day entry, Ask Your Mother (reviewed below).