The text came early last night from my 8-year-old grandson, Tallac. The one every grandfather awaits. The one in which a child actually asks an old man something about the life he lived long, long ago. 

The question: “Do you have pictures of your bull-fighting endeavors?”

It was as close as I would ever get to “Grandpa, what did you do during the war?”

Or, in theatrical terms, it was my Peter Falk in “Princess Bride” moment.

And I guess I blew it.