I am an extremely young grandpa, still able to outrun and outjump thirteen grandkids. It helps that they are seven and under. When they're worn out from trying to catch me, they say, "Read to me."
Sweeter words were seldom spoken. My second grandchild, Eowyn, snuggles up on my lap and listens, wide-eyed as three little oinkers set out to seek their fortune. She loves pigs. Loves it when the first little porker buys a load of straw. Loves it when the sweet little swine builds a house of straw then goes indoors to ham it up.
She cringes when the big bad wolf knocks. "Little pig, little pig, let...
