Busted again

 "And G-d knows what else," said granddaughter about something when we were driving to waterpolo last night.  When it's just the two of us, we have such amazingly adult conversations, discussing everything from sports to how her classes are run to her friends to real estate (i.e., where Grandpa and I should live because we're "old") and to current driving conditions.  She makes connections that even I miss.  

"Grandma, did you know that when you were in kindergarten, Grandpa was in grade six?  He's six years older than you, that's why."  How did she even know that?  How did she figure that out?  No clue!

 A precocious, lateral thinker is how I'd describe her.

Last night we had a huge dump of snow and the highway from Cochrane to Calgary is treacherous when it's snowing that hard.  With no trees to block the drifts, the snow flies across the highway in sheets, icing the road into a virtual skating rink.  As I drove along in my trusty, 2002 Honda Civic hatchback -- thankfully with new tires -- I had the flashers going to warn other drivers that this grannie was not going to drive the speed limit just because that's what the sign said.  

"Better safe than stupid," pipes up granddaughter, as we passed a number of cars in the ditch -- the same vehicles that had just sped past us.  At least three fire trucks also passed us and she wondered if Daddy was in one.  "I think I just saw him in the passenger seat," she excitedly exclaimed.

But back to, "And G-d knows what else."  Finally, I asked, "Where did you get that expression?"  "You see that person sitting beside me at the moment?"  "You mean me?!"  "Yes, grandma, you say that all the time -- that and 'idiot', which Mummy tells me not to say."

So, as I say, busted again.  Here she is in full, waterpolo flight: