God has blessed our family with at least one eternal optimist - our five year old.
True to form, she was a sweet ray of sunshine, as our ever-lengthening trip to Florida tried to dampen even the best of our optimistic intentions.
On one stop at a particularly dismal public restroom, I tried not to gag as I saw the tell-tale bright pink germ-slime lining the rim of the potty.
Our five-year-old saw it, too.
"Pretty!" she said. "It looks like lipstick!"