Through the eyes of a child.

One Saturday morning when Miriam was four, we went to breakfast at the Cracker Barrel. She asked if we could go look at the toys while we waited for our order. We walked hand in hand past the greeter and the greeter kindly smiled at us and said to Miriam "how nice you are spending the day with grandpa." I smiled and Miriam gripped my hand and said defiantly to the woman "he is my papa not my grandpa." Later in our walk, she looked up and said "It's okay papa. You are not an old papa just a regular papa."