Friday, May 20, 2016

Grandpa Dewey Doesn't Know His Head From...

I've never been accused of being overly intelligent, and now I've got a three-year-old's testimony to back up that evaluation.

While Beloved gets the privilege of spending time with our granddaughter, SweetCheeks, almost every Thursday evening, it's more of a rarity for me to have the night available for performing grandfatherly duties like  reading bedtime stories and sneaking pieces of chocolate past the watchful gaze of her parents, KayJay and TheWind.

It's enough of a special occasion that when I arrived one Thursday night a couple weeks ago, SweetCheeks had painted a picture to commemorate the event.

She handed it to me and said, "I painted a picture of you!"

"Oh! That IS me!" I proclaimed, as I pointed at the circle in the upper left, next to the long reddish line, "There's my head!"

SweetCheeks looked at me as if I had just declared that turtles could fly and said, "No...that's an 'O'!"

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