The white one was her favorite.
And the laughter . . . they never cease to catch me completely off guard with their fresh, untarnished view of things. We were cooking hotdogs over a campfire in the back yard of my eldest daughter's house in Indianapolis and the fire was smoking quite a bit from the hot dog grease dripping into it. My grandson Julian remembered that his dad had a respirator in the garage for dealing with stinky paints and within minutes he handed off his hot dog stick to me and returned all prepared to deal with the smoky fire. If you ever needed a laugh, this is one you simply can't resist.