So . . . we're at the park this afternoon and Sophie wanders over to a women on the grass who's playing with a puppy. I follow her over and make small talk with the lady as Sophie warily eyes the dog.
Suddenly Sophie points at the lady and says, "Mock." (milk)
"Milk?" I say, a little confused.
The lady motions to the picnic basket behind her and says, "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie. I don't have any milk."
Meanwhile I'm trying to figure out why she would say that because the container in her picnic basket doesn't look anything like a milk carton. Then I look back at the woman and notice that she's very well endowed.
And showing a lot of cleavage.