For My Pop-Pop

My late grandfather

Photo by Isaac Quesada on Unsplash

I was almost three when my grandfather died. I was his favorite grandchild and I remember that very well. He called me Jenny-Poo (nobody is allowed to call me that) because when I was little, I squatted over a sprinkler and pooped in my bathing suit. He would put me on his shoulders every day to take me to the gas station to get a Butterfinger.

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