There's a children's book in here somewhere...

While we were in New York (if you read the comments, you know we were in NY), springtime apparently descended upon us, as we found ourselves surrounded by a multitude of caterpillars. John's nephew Jack took a liking to one in particular and named him Carl. Carl was a special caterpillar, in that he could perform tricks on a stick. His most spectacular trick was holding on while Jack ran approximately 50 miles in the driveway/parking area holding the stick.

At one point in time, however, (much to no one but Jack's surprise) Carl disappeared. Jack was searching frantically for him, and I was just close enough to hear him quietly admonishing, "Carl, this is no time for playing games!"

Luckily, someone on the far side of the parking area was paying attention, and Carl (or another caterpillar bearing a striking resemblance to Carl) was found. And for the next few days, every caterpillar that wandered onto the parking area received a jubilant round of, "Hey! There's Carl!"

Until I found one in the garage. I called Jack over, and told him that I had found Carl. "Don't be ridiculous, Aunt Marly," he corrected me, "That's not Carl."

"It sure looks like Carl," I tried.

"Of course it does. That's Carl's dad, Jerry!"

"Of course."