About your summer vacation

Since you are only 5, I thought you might appreciate a written record of your recent vacation. I find memory to be an increasingly specious companion. So I thought I'd compile this little travelogue of our visit to the heartland.

We arrived at O'Hare, rested and on time. It was the first time travelers had ever arrived that way at O'Hare, and the FAA immediately began a thorough investigation.

"We're here to see Grandma," you assured the TSA staffers, who drew their guns and nodded politely. You know the Midwest.

I've got to say, I was really proud of the way you dragged your own suitcase through the airport. It was a heroic effort, though you ran over the toes of four grown men as you tried to navigate that crazy turn into the men's room just outside the American terminal.

Of course, they were good sports about it. Only two of the victims threatened to sue you. I'm always forgetting that the Middle West has a higher octane of testosterone than we get out there on the Best Coast. I took it as a good reminder that we were back in the big-shouldered hometown of Al Capone and Hillary Clinton.

On the road, you regaled us with details of your journey. You asked about Grandma's dog (Penny) and how your six crazy cousins were faring. You adore your cousins. Whoever invented cousins invented a wonderful thing.

At Grandma's house, your cousins greeted you like royalty. They were summer-freckled and red as strawberries. You had no idea exactly who they were, since they had all grown several feet since you last saw them. Some had butts who didn't have butts before. They surrounded you as if you were Bob Dylan, the Miley Cyrus of my generation.

Now, this is something you should always know about your aunts and uncles. They are an extremely happy lot. Their secret? Good Irish stock. You may have noticed that several of them wash their hair with vodka martinis. In fact, most of their favorite activities here are grain-based.

Son, you're 5 now, so it's probably a good time to be forthright about your background. You have a certain amount of leprechaun blood in you. Nothing to be ashamed of. I encourage you to be proud of your roots. Embrace your ethnic differences. They may one day get you into a good community college.

By the second day here, your eyes were the color of root beer. You smelled of musty pool towels and bug spray. You filed for divorce that day -- from me.