Breakfast is the one meal per day that the adults can enjoy in relative peace & quiet.  Boys are mostly comatose in the morning, and some, called scalawags,  do not smile before noon.  “But, I thought you loved camp,” I tease them, only to be assured that the early hour, not Kingswood, is to blame.  And, when maintenance hauled out the old dishwasher to the front porch, we could not resist telling boys to stick their heads inside, ask one of those trivial camper questions, and pull the lever for a rapid response.  When one lad persisted in asking more about the machine carcass, Stefan replied that Mr. Wiff had just purchased an electric  “Line Frisbee Score-counter,” an answer the boy accepted without much further ado.