My wife’s high school class is holding its 45th reunion this weekend but she won’t make it, having overspent her traveling energy during a trip to Milwaukee last weekend.

That involved my driving to New Orleans, our flying to Milwaukee and back to New Orleans, and then my driving back to Batesville earlier this week to work at the newspaper.

That involved her making logistical arrangements for the care of more than enough New Orleans damncats during her absence. Her job was harder than mine.

But there was an Eli visit involved and that was motivation enough. Eli is our 18-month-old grandson who was born in Milwaukee where he lives with his parents, Mary and Phillip Taylor. At this rate, he’ll grow up thinking his grandparents talk with funny accents.

But it didn’t matter. He was happy to see us and didn’t treat us like strangers when we got there. I could tell you how cute and smart and wonderful he is, but you knew that already and if you didn’t, you’d be kind enough not to mention it.

He patrols. Most of the time when he’s not eating or sleeping, he is walking around the house, reaching for countertops to see what forbidden object might have been left within his reach.

We know that, but sometimes we forget. And it always seems like his reach is longer than we have allowed.

Consequently, we spent several anxious moments separating his grasp from a butcher knife or other potentially harmful object. He doesn’t protest; he just holds it out for us to take and receives an emphatic, “Thank you!” as the sharp, pointy object changes hands.

It is as though he’s designated himself the authority to remove objects that might be harmful to himself, but that’s a conclusion arrived at without giving him time to actually do anything else with the sharp, pointy object. Shudder at the thought.

Milwaukee was cool as we had expected it to be. Grass is green and lush and the wind from Lake Michigan is a constant presence. They live in an incorporated suburb, South Milwaukee, that provides many parks and green spaces. We made several trips each day to a neighborhood park where Eli can run. He never walks when he can run. Running after him has kept his mother in trim.

We’re tag-teaming fall visits to Milwaukee with Eli’s other grandparents, Lowell and Linda Taylor. They will soon be making that trip themselves.

I wonder if they will notice what we did when we were preparing for departure and telling them goodbye: Each time gets harder.