Dear the snotty old bluehair at the grocery store today:
When my son is saying "Ow", it's NOT because I'm hurting him. He's meowing. Like a cat. That's why he was using that funny voice. That's why I was laughing and tickling him under the chin. That's why I was calling him "Kitty". MYOB lady, Depends are in aisle 4. Isn't it almost time for your meds back at the retirement castle? Don't make me drop-kick you back to your glory days in the roaring '20's.