Mr. Laurence sat on his porch, waiting for his daughter to come pick up her son. He really had no idea why the poor kid was even there. After his wife died, he had forgotten how to tolerate people.

“Papa,” chirped the little boy as he sat next to his grandpa, wanna know a secret?"

Mr. Laurence didn’t respond. He just sat in his chair, stairing at the lawn.

“Papa,” continued the little boy, “Mommy makes me wear a bib when I eat.”

Mr. Laurence sighed, “It’s not so bad after a while. She makes me wear one all the time.”

“Mommy won’t let me climb da stairs either.”

“I haven’t been allowed up any stairs since 1994.”

“Well, mommy yells at me when I wet da bed.”

Mr. Laurence looked up from his grass, and stared at his grandson. “I feel your pain buddy. She yells at me when I wet the bed too.”

The little boy giggled and scooted closer to his grandpa. “I like you,” he chirped.

Mr. Laurence cracked a small smile, “I like you too, kid.”