Grammy helps us out by taking G to ballet every week. They have some wonderful conversations in the car.
G: "Grammy...is Momma going to look like you when she gets old?"
Grammy: "G, what do you mean?"
G: "Is Momma's hair going to stick up on her head like yours when she gets old?"
My mother has a very cute and spikey hairdo, but I don't think it'll ever be for me. Love my G!
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