I once read a quote that, for me, hit the nail on the head: "Grandchildren are God's reward for not having killed your teenagers." After all the times I cringed, "Noooooo!~! I don't want to know!" while cleaning out his mom's teenage pockets for laundry, this is what I got to pull out of Caleb's pockets up in the bathroom last night. Just when I start to feel old and crusty and burned out altogether due to the world we live in today, well; this pocket of doodads he viewed as treasures to be saved (from me shop-vac blowing out that rental garage yesterday) gives me hope because at least some modicum of innocence and wonder continues, if only for a moment.