FUN HOUSE
On Great-Great Grandpa's trail

Twice a month, with tropical flowers in hand, I visit my grandfather's grave. One Sunday afternoon my 4-year old grandson tagged along. As I cleared away weeds and old flowers, I explained to him that this was his great-great-grandpa who died.

"This is my grandpa?" he repeated.

"Yes," I said and emphasized, "This was your great-great-grandpa."

A thoughtful look came over his little face. He raised two fingers and said confidently, "So, Granny, my grandpa was great two times, right?"

"Right!" I chuckled. "Grandpa was great two times!"

As he looked inquiringly at the dirt and grass, he asked, "So, Granny, where is Grandpa hiding?"