Mr. Pic and I went to a local soft serve ice cream shop yesterday. We were the only customers there at the time. After we received our treats and sat down at the picnic table, a sheboon and her little niglet, about two in human years, came up to the window to order theirs.

The niglet was acting out, as they all do, and pointing his finger at his mammy. My husband commented, "not even out of diapers yet, and already pointing an imaginary gun at his mother". I laughed and said, "They grow up so fast. Before you know it, he will be robbing this same ice cream place at gunpoint."

They had one of those windsock things waving around that was a medium brown color. The niglet kept babbling at it. Hubby laughed and said, "he probably thinks that's his daddy." Ha, ha, his real daddy is probably some skinny crackhead waving his arms around like that.