Edited  (for Rentons peace of mind) - this story was sent to me via e mail. It is not about my grandson - it's a made up story.

Last week, I took my grandchildren to a restaurant.
My six-year-old grandson asked if he could say grace.
As we bowed our heads he said, "Thank you for the
Food God, and I would even thank you more if Grandpa gets us ice cream for
dessert. And freedom and justice for all! Amen!"
Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman
remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know
how to pray. Asking God for ice cream! Why, I never!"
Hearing this, my grandson burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it all
wrong? Is God cross with me?"
As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job, and God was
Certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table.
He winked at my grandson and said,
"I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer."
"Really?" my grand-son asked.
"Cross my heart," the man replied.
Then, in a theatrical whisper, he added (indicating the woman whose remark
had started this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A
little Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."
Naturally, I bought my grandchildren ice cream at the end of the meal.

My Grandson stared at his for a moment, and then did something that restored my faith in human nature.

He picked up his sundae and, without a word, walked over and placed it in
front of the woman.
With a big smile he told her,
"Here, this is for you. Shove it up your arse you grumpy old bitch!"