Just in case any of you were worried that this has been a trip full of tears, side hugs, and touching memories...
I have just now escaped up to our room.
Downstairs in the family room, Ken and his brothers have turned into The Family Bagpipe.
Ken is the low drone. Andrew is a fourth above Ken. Fred Jr. keeps trying to be a drone, but he's laughing too hard. And John, with his nose plugged, and his left hand giving karate chops to his Adam's apple, is being the pipe, buzzing along with Amazing Grace in perfect Bagpipe pitch.
Oh wait... they're now doing the Irish Spring commercial tune. No wait. That's not it. It's the typical song (that's not Amazing Grace) that one might think of when one thinks of interminable bagpipe music.
The boys just finished going through Dad's filing cabinet. Dinner was spent with us laughing nearly until we cried over his "File of Shame" that the boys found. In it were all the things that a lesser father may have held over his sons' heads, but dad just kept to give himself a chuckle every now and then. In it? Ken's "provisional report card" where his Grade 12 Chemistry teacher was recommending that Ken be given an F. [hold on. The Family Bagpipe just tuned up a semi-tone... ouch. Will this never end?] Oh, but she couldn't actually GIVE him an F, seeing as he managed to talk his way into writing the Provincial Scholarship Exams, and got one of the top 3 marks in the entire province in Chemistry. I don't think we need to tell Skip that story. He might think of it as a challenge...
Ah. The bagpipe music has finally (blessedly) stopped.
I think it's safe to go back downstairs, even though I am in danger of being overwhelmed by the avalanche of delicious food that has continued to stream into the house. Apparently, all of mom and dad's friends are worried that the five sons still eat like they did when they were in high school.