Granddaddy pays me 10 cents a week for keeping house for him, too.
Granddaddy thought it was beautiful too—although he called it "purty."
I think that I have not felt so utterly lonesome since granddaddy died.
“Helloa, there, Granddaddy Bullfrog,” shouted the little rabbit.
He said it, and I'm here to say that I don't want to be the granddaddy of the children of an atheist.