So this morning I go upstairs to say goodbye to Boy and tell him that Izzy should go out in the front yard with him when he has his morning cigarette. I walk into the master bath and he's standing there with this half-rueful, half-despairing expression on his face. He's completely dressed, except the belt he's wearing doesn't fit. The ends don't even meet. "You're wearing my belt," I told him. Man. The look of relief on his face. Remembering it makes up for the nine o'clock meeting this morning, but only because the meeting's already over.