"Someone has to be around to remind you how lucky you are to have a normal kid." He's joking, but there's a grain of seriousness there. He's both hoping and dreading that John might end up being a nutter too. Hoping because it would make him not alone, dreading because he seriously wouldn't wish that on Barbara - he's sure at least a few gray hairs are his fault.

And he can always do with the reminder. To tell the truth, it's a terrifying idea, the one of moving so far away from Ian and Barbara that he can't just pedal over there in the middle of the night to make sure they're still there. He doesn't spy on them often anymore, partially because he's finally realized that's kind of weird, but he takes comfort knowing that he can. He can check on them, even if he doesn't mean to.

"In my day we have email. And cell phones," he pouts. He points at the bridge. "That's where we're waiting tomorrow."