My youngest daughter made a request of me yesterday, I wanna go to dah libary and sit on a little chair at a little table and look at a book, a lotta books.
How could I say no? So we're driving to the library, and she pipes up from the back seat, Mom how come grandma T, grandma Doreen, grandpa, and Aunt M all say "Pardon"?
Isn't she brilliant to notice that it's a generational thing?
And today when Mr. O brought her some french fries back from lunch, her face lit up and she fairly squealed with delight, Oh french cries, I just love french cries!
