As I write this, it is 11:00 o’clock at night and my eighty-year old Uncle Jack is in town on a business trip. He arrived at Newark Airport at 1:00 o’clock this morning. He was originally scheduled to arrive at 8:30 last night, but when he left Santa Cruz at 5 a.m., the Greyhound bus driver never showed up, he got to the airport late and missed his plane, et cetera, et cetera and so on. Bottom line is that we didn’t get to bed until 2:30 a.m. I got up the next morning at 8 a.m. and tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to wake up my poor, tired, elderly Uncle. When I reached the bottom step, I turned and observed him sitting fully dressed and smiling.

“Good morning, Shelly,” he said with a dapper glint in his eyes. “I’ve been up for two hours.”

Sigh.