The towel was big enough, that I was able to wrap it around my waist three times before tucking it in. And, as I was leaving the bathroom again, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair looked like I’d combed it with an eggbeater and I had a stupid expression on my face.

I pointed at my reflection and said, “You have got to get it together, or you’ll never survive here Surfer Boy! Now pull it together or I’ll kick your sorry, surf loving butt all the way back to Chula Vista! You hear me?”

My reflection respectfully and humbly nodded back to me.

“Good! Now do something about your hair! You look like a diseased squirrel for crying out loud!”

Not having a comb or hairbrush, I combed my mop with my fingers so it looked slightly less rat-nest-ish, flicked off the light switch, and set out to find my parents.

Have you ever been in a big house or building and got yourself lost? Boy, I sure did! I honestly thought that when Grandmother had led me to what was to be my bedroom, I had paid attention to the path we took to get there, so that I could find it again later. Apparently I hadn’t paid close enough attention. Either that or I made a wrong turn somewhere; because before too long, I found myself inside a huge study with lots of books on really tall shelves and some comfortable looking leather furniture.

“You there! What are you doing? You’re not supposed to be in there! What-What!”

I spun around so fast, that I nearly fell down in the process.

“Grandfather!” I chirped, clutching at my thumping heart, “You-you startled me!”

“What on earth are you wearing? What-What!” he asked while giving his nose a flick.

I looked down at my heaving bare chest and the pristinely white towel that hung on me like a heavy white drapery. “G-Grandmother told me to wash and I did, but then I realized, that I didn’t have my clothes from the car!” I said nervously.

Before he spoke again, Grandfather cleared his throat, straightened his tie and combed one side of his salt and pepper mustache with his thumb and forefinger.

“So, you thought it would be proper to run around the house in nothing more than the suit God gave you? Highly irregular boy! Highly irregular, indeed! What-What!”

He cleared his throat even louder and combed the other side of his mustache, “And what, might I ask, were you doing in my study? What-What!”

Something in the way Grandfather looks at me causes me to go weak in the knees. I guess he scares me a little with those big bushy gray eyebrows atop his steely blue eyes and the way his mustache keeps twitching like it is alive or something.

“Honest Grandfather, I didn’t know! I-I was lost!” I said, trying not to fall apart under his reproachful stare.

“Lost? What-What!” he asked.

“Yes sir, I was trying to find my Mom and John to get my clothes and things.” I said, feeling less and less control over myself.

Grandfather shook his head while turning away.

“Highly irregular boy. Highly irregular indeed! ” He said, sort of mumbling to himself.

I momentarily lost my train of thought because it occurred to me that he hadn’t ended his sentence with that odd ‘What-What!’ thing.

He stopped and looked back at me and the look on his face was exactly what one would look like if they were looking back at a pile of dog poo on the carpet.

“Well don’t dilly-dally boy! Hop to! Time wasted is time lost! What-What!”