Aunt Christy wanted to make S’mores over Labor Day weekend, except that the tail end of Hurricane Ernesto eliminated the possibility of a campfire. We eventually made them on the grill, which is beyond lame. Felix had told me on the phone that he had only eaten mini-marshmallows and I heard him ask his father if he was old enough to have big marshmallows. Suffice it to say that his wise mother, who has somehow induced her children to enjoy tofu, edamame, and unsweetened cereal, does not promote puffed sugar balls. As a result, Felix took advantage of Aunt Christy’s indulgent attitude and was eating them delightedly up to the moment the car left for the airport for the return to Chicago and the sensible life.