I have been a grandfather for nine years and change, and it’s a pretty good gig. You can take a whack at spoiling the little guys and not feel guilty about it, and you can smile and head for the door when three boys get a bit too … boisterous.

There are some great moments out there, and I was reminded of one of them today while sorting some papers, and specifically while reading a hand-written letter from No. 1 Grandson (by birth order), Wesley.

No date on this letter, but hey, he was 8 years old at the time. I wasn’t writing letters to anybody when I was 8, not even to Santa Claus.

“Dear Grandpa Paul and Grandma Leah,

“I just got to Château de l’Ile. A castle hotel by a huge lake.

“I love it. I feel like a billoinaire. I get free eggs and breakfast and slippers and robes. Even silk sheets. Oh, and I get a private bathroom.

“So I think I’m aficeally settled into Europe.

“How is it going in amarica?

“I got your letter, Grandpa Paul. We hope your having fun!

“love, wesley”

How great is that? Eldest Grandson (and his family) reached a ritzy place in Strasbourg, France, and he finds the time to send along a note. How thoughtful!

I checked on the place, and it is pretty luxe, A five-star hotel with a spa attached … on a castle built on an islet of the Rhone River.

Aficeally kind of a billoinaire moment, really.