Well, he certainly recovered in a hurry. Off to camp he went this morning, delighted and excited, a camp at the Fowler Museum in Westwood, where they apparently have the run of the museum and are making art. He spent a quiet day at home interspersing naps with Laurel and Hardy, then found out from his brother that they went to the botanical gardens yesterday and he missed it. That was enough of that. ’Goin’ to camp today, Dad.’ Okay. See ya. Call me if you start vomiting again and I’ll come and get you.
It’s good to be eleven.