As was typical for many children, I gleefully spent summers visiting my grandparents, along with my older brother. My granddad took us out on the water in his motorboat, and my grandmother set up the little blue plastic pool in the yard where we splashed away the hot day.
She would also send us on errands to the local Kroger grocery store. One day my grandmother said to me, “Be sure to get a quart of milk, some bread, and some canned tuna,” as she pressed a few dollars into my sweaty palms and hurried us on our way to the store. But I was preoccupied, sidetracked by the cute mailboy making his way towards the house. It’s no surprise that I forgot even the few items on the list that day.
Thankfully, I had a witness—someone else who could corroborate what was said and done. My brother, unmoved by the
