Although not quite yet 2, my granddaughter, Alexia Rose, has developed an appreciation for some of the finer things in life. Here she is "driving" my
(it was shiny, red and screamed "mid-life crisis") 1966 Mustang. I took her for her first ride in it a few months back. A couple of weeks ago I opened
it's garage door and she saw it for the second time and she said "Papaw's car, let's go" repeatedly. Today was the first day I was able to take her for
her special ride. Who knows, maybe I'll just keep it in the garage for her?