I promised an update on how Wayne is fairing with Grandpa Camp.  The best way I can think of to describe his 13-day constant contact with his grandsons is a conversation we had many years ago after I’d returned from a church retreat.  This was the first time Wayne had been left alone with all four of the kids for any length of time—all of them eight years of age or younger. I was at camp, having all my meals cooked and served to me, laughing with my friends, listening to inspiring, uplifting messages. This is how our conversation went when I returned home:

"Oh, Honey, I had the best time ever."
And Wayne said, "Ted threw up."
"The meals were incredible."
And Wayne said, "It got in the carpet, in the hallway . . . he never made it into the bathroom."
"I made so many wonderful new friends."
And Wayne said, "It was the five hot dogs he ate for lunch."
"I missed you all so much.  How was your weekend?"
And Wayne said, "I’m so glad you’re back."
"Me, too."  And we hugged.