Then the waiter walked over—someone I didn’t recognize. Mid-40s maybe, New York accent, friendly but not overly so. He looked right at the boys and said, “Hey! You guys back from the cabin already?”

My sons just looked at him, blinking. I smiled politely and said, “I think you’ve got us mixed up.”

He laughed and pointed. “Nah, I remember them. These two were here all the time last summer. Sat right there—same spot. I even remember the sketchbook.”